Everything Falls Apart
by Amellys
Summary: After an attempted murder of Harry Potter, Ginny Weasley is scared and alone, facing the Wizengamot with Draco Malfoy alone willing to come to her aid. Together, they must face the Wizarding World and save Ginny's life. Can they do it? 'tis the question
1. Chapter 1

"Why?"

It was the only word in an inquiring tone that escaped from the paled lips of Harry Potter when his wife of five years, Ginevra Molly Weasley, drove a sharp kitchen knife through his chest. Cackling madly, with her fiery red hair flying wildly around her delicate, freckled face, that was twisted in sick grimace, wearing nothing but a long, dark-green nightgown, Ginevra looked like the angel of destruction herself.

Harry stumbled, and with as much grace as a falling tree, he sunk to their white, marble floor. As he fell, the knife, which Ginevra's hand was still clutching strongly in her small hand, was ripped out of his chest, bringing about another spurt of his crimson blood. His eyes were closed, and so he did not see as she leaned her back against the kitchen counter and slowly, but with more elegance than him, sunk down to the floor too. However, she did not rush to his side as a dutiful wife would have. She just sat her, staring at her bloodied hands that were still holding onto the blade that had stabbed her husband, not making any noise of regret or further madness, as blood, taking life with it, oozed from Harry Potter's body.

There was a sound of an Apparation 'pop', followed by the cheerful voice of Ronald Weasley:

"Harry? Ginny? I brought those papers…"

Ron, holding an armful of parchments, appeared in the arch doorway that led from their apparation point to the kitchen. It was rather a nice kitchen, and Ginny took much pride in it. The floor was made of white marble, there was a kitchen counter in the middle, and the wide, spacey windows overlooked the lake and part of the porch where the family used to spend their evenings. Now, however, the peacefulness of the place was disturbed by Harry's bloodied body on the floor, as Ron undoubtedly managed to notice when he entered the kitchen. His observation was betrayed by him dropping all the parchments on the floor before whispering through his paled lips:

"Bloody hell."

He rushed to his best friend's body and muttered a spell to slow the bleeding. He grasped Harry's hand and suspended him in the midair with magic as he rushed the way he came: towards the Apparation point. In a moment they were gone, and the only connection between them and Ginny was the knife and blood on her white hands, and the small puddle on the floor that came from Harry's veins before Ron appeared.

Ginny did not seem to notice any of it as she kept staring at her bloody hands, much in the same manner as she had before. Her long legs were comfortably tucked close to her body, still covered in the green night gown. And she was still clutching the knife.

That's how her youngest brother found her, after he dropped off Harry at St. Mungo's and Apparated back to Potter Residence. He rushed to her side, and grabbed her by the shoulders, yet Ginny did not look up.

"Ginny?" he asked, and his voice was soaked in worry, anxiety to find out what happened, and the gravity of the whole situation. "Tell me what happened."

Ginny very, very slowly looked up from her hands, and with an unreadable expression glanced at the puddle of blood, then back at her hands and, lastly, at Ron, whose eyes widened in the understanding of the horrible truth.

"No…" Ron mumbled through his clenched teeth.

There was just no way that his little sister could hurt his best friend, her husband whom she loved very much.

"No…" Ron repeated. "There is no way. I know you, Ginny."

He was disturbed as Ginny slowly raised her chin to look him in the eye. Her usually smiling face was blank, and Ron was having trouble recognizing his own sister. The woman that was sitting in front of him was so very different from the little girl that he grew up with, that he was quite sure that it was someone that drunk Polyjuice potion to assassinate Harry. At least, that is what he wanted to believe. Yet, he knew, deep down inside, he knew better. He knew that the young woman on the floor was his real sister. But the act he has just tried to put a stop to and his little sister simply did not connect in his brain. However, his suspicion was to be dubbed true by the actor herself.

"Yes." Ginny purred, and Ron had a feeling that her eyes flashed maroon as she breathed out those words.

"But why?" he whispered the question that had no suitable answer.

* * *

_Ok, I seriously have no idea where this is going. So plz, plz review. I need ideas, and I need opinions to know whether I should even continue that . Oh, and in case you guys do want me to write this I might need a beta lol_


	2. Chapter 2

I could not decide whether to continue this story or not, but at random whim of angst I wrote this chapter, so well, enjoy!

* * *

"I am not taking _this_case, Jim," Draco Malfoy said in a flat voice, taking his friend's hand off of his shoulder

"I don't see how you have a choice," the man named 'Jim' said in reply, shaking his head lightly.

"You can't make me," Draco leaned back in his leather chair, pursing his lips lightly which gave him the look of a stubborn child.

The other man simply shook his head, "As I said, this is not your decision to make. You have to take this case."

"Why?"

"For one, you are the best lawyer we have, and if someone can win this case, then it's you. Second, I am to choose five cases for you a year. You should know your sentence by now," Jim's voice was stern and for anyone, apart from Mr. Malfoy, it would be clear that he was not going to make any compromises, but the younger man pressed on.

"I don't see why you had to pick this case in particular."

"Well, seeing as it is December, and you had taken only four cases this year…"

"I really don't have a choice, do I?"

"Finally," Jim rolled his eyes at him. "It's either Azkaban or this case. Get it through your head, damn it."

Draco lifted his hands in defeat: "Fine, fine."

"Great. I brought all the files with me, so you can start working on this case. Also, I suggest that you talk to the client as soon as possible." And with that, Jim walked out of the large, lavishly decorated office where Draco Malfoy resided.

"Fun," Draco muttered, waving his wand to levitate the fascicles to his desk.

Draco spent his whole afternoon studying the case. And then the next morning. And next afternoon. And the day after, and the day after that and the day after that. The trial was set three weeks from the day Jim talked to him, and he found nothing that would help. He knew that he should go and talk to her, but he was avoiding it, and he was well aware of the fact. He did not want to see her, and he wanted to see her at the same time. He dreaded the moment when he would enter the Azkaban cell; and it was not only the dementors that scared him. He was afraid of seeing her, the youngest Weasley, the person whom he always made fun of at school, so vulnerable.

A week after he received his assignment from Jim, he could not wait any longer. He had to talk to her, he was her advocate, and he needed to find out what she knew. And so, he was on the morning ferry to the island, with crappy coffee, bundled in his warmest cloak, and cursing the northern winds. He briefly considered that if he did not win this case, or at least did his honest best to win it, he would be on this ferry by the end of her trial. _'Rookies…'_ he thought, before turning his mind away from the gloominess that Azkaban presented.

The ferry landed, and he walked into the 'correcting' facility, smirking at the bitter irony. If Azkaban was anything, it was a 'corrupting' facility rather than a 'correcting' one. He disposed a fake wand from WWW's at the security, keeping his real one inside his cloak. Naturally, that was a crime, but he did not care. He was not about to enter a building full of dementors without the only defense weapon any witch or wizard ever had.

He followed a tall, cloaked dementor to her cell. He was focusing on the memory of getting his first kneazle so hard, that he almost walked into that floating form, which broke the trance immediately. _'I hate these things,'_ he thought, spitting on the floor in disgust.

The dementor opened the door, Draco entered and the creature locked it behind him. The cell looked just like the one of Lucius Malfoy which Draco had visited frequently during his Father's imprisonment. The floor, he supposed, was made of ancient rock, but it was covered with so many layers of dirt and dust that he could not tell for sure. There was a small window, looking over the now-calm, cold ocean. In one corner stood a grey toilet and there was an ugly, metallic chair that stood in front of the cot, obviously it was put there for him. He took it gracefully; still inspecting the cell- anything rather than to look at the petite form that was laying on the cot, curled in a tight ball. Too late, he already looked and now he could not look away.

Ginevra Molly Weasley, known as 'Ginny', was, indeed, curled in a very small ball on a dirty cot. She was wearing something unidentifiable, that might have been a long, green nightgown, but it was clearly not green anymore. It was grey. With spots of green being visible here and there. He saw that she was poorly fed, and that her tall form was smaller and skinnier than ever before. Yet, there was something about her that pulled him like a magnet pulls on steel. Her famous, brilliant red hair was matted with dirt- clearly hygiene was not something one would pay much attention to in Azkaban. From behind her tangled hair, her eyes were bright with intelligence that was not yet dulled by the horrors of this place.

Draco thought that peculiar. He's been to Azkaban once or twice before (apart from visiting his father), but all his clients that have been imprisoned in the fortress were at some level insane. Their eyes were full of hunger, pain, shining with craze much like an animal's eyes would. Ginny's eyes, however, were clear. She was obviously not mad…yet.

Draco felt a pang of something he has not felt in a very long time. He was trained to be cold and emotionless. Even when his own Father was dieing on a cot similar to this one, he was not moved to feel more than a dull pang of loss; but seeing his enemy, someone, who always appeared so strong and so vibrant, was more than he expected. He felt pity. And it surprised him. He did not expect to feel more than disgust, but his fears from before returned full-filled. He felt sorry for a Weasley. Draco clenched his jaw; he would get this over with and go home. Probably have a nice long night with Firewhiskey, and it all would make more sense in the morning.

"Ginevra Weasley?" he asked roughly.

Her eyes found his, and she slowly sat up.

"I have been assigned to be your advocate," he continued, clearing his throat.

No answer, but her mouth curled into a small smile and her eyes filled with something that resembled hope.

"The trial is to happen two weeks from now at two o'clock."

"I knew they wouldn't let me rot in here!" Ginny said in a victorious voice.

Draco was confused for a minute; he was not sure what, or rather who, she was talking about. Her clear eyes clouded with feverish happiness.

"Who sent you? Mum? Dad? Bill? Or maybe Charlie? No, no the twins, it were the twins, right? I know it wasn't Ron. Ron hates me," she finished her voice just as feverish as her eyes.

Draco realized that she was talking about her family. She thought that one of them employed him to help her out of here. _'Those bastards,'_ the thought involuntarily. _'They didn't even try to bail her out of here.' _Meanwhile, Ginny was looking at him expectantly, and Draco was left wordless. How was he to break the truth to her?

"I…"

"Who are you?" she asked, with a lively interest now that she was sure that her family and friends did not forget her.

Draco cleared his throat again.

"I am sorry, Ms. Weasley," he said in his best official court voice. "I was assigned this case by the state. My name is Draco Malfoy."

A split second before he said that, he thought that there was no point in lying to her. A split second afterwards, he would give anything to take it back. Ginny's shoulders fell down, her chin touched her chest in defeat, and her brown eyes found a refuge outside the window. She did not seem to register his name, although he was certain that she heard it.

"They didn't…" Ginny said in a defeated voice, still refusing to look at him.

"I am sorry," Draco said, uncertainly.

He thought that this sort of show of emotion was beyond him, but it would appear that he was wrong.

"And you are my advocate."

"Yes."

Ginny nodded her head, obviously thinking about the recent development of her situation. Despite the pity he was feeling just a moment ago, Draco looked at the younger witch with admiration. If he was stuck in Azkaban with no help from his friends or family, and with his archenemy as his advocate, he would certainly not be this calm. Ginny's brow furrowed, and she raised her eyes to meet his:

"Why are you my lawyer? You hate me."

There was no emotion in her voice, and Draco felt like he was the only one sliding through an emotional roller coaster here. No woman had this kind of effect on his emotions; it was the other way around.

"I had to take the case," Draco explained softly. "If I did not, I'd be send to Azkaban myself."

"Ah," Ginny said softly, her eyes were clear and cold. "So I am truly alone in this."

The way she said it did not indicate that she cared at all. She even shrugged her shoulders in a silent malevolence. Draco wanted know what was going through her head. Was she scared? Mad? Hurt? There was no way of knowing, unless he used Legillimency on her, and he did not feel like lowering his mind barriers in a place like this.

"It's nothing against you," she said with a weak smile that left Draco wondering about the strength of her character once wrong.

"I am sure they are doing their best to help you," again, Draco showed the pity he felt, and it felt oddly good.

"Right," Ginny said with a weak sarcasm. "They hate me. Who is left in the whole wizarding world who does not hate me after what I have done?"

"I don't hate you."

She gave him a questioning look. "You've hated me ever since you saw me in that bookstore."

"I did not. I hated Potter. I just disliked you."

"Same thing."

"It is not," Draco pouted.

"Whatever," Ginny clearly did not care anymore.

"Now to the point," Draco said, not missing the change of her mood. "You have been charged with attempted murder of Harry James Potter on November 28th. Are you planning on confessing to this?"

"Yes."

Her voice was very flat. So flat, that Draco almost did not hear the answer. Almost. She was willing to admit attempted murder?

"Why?" it slipped his lips.

"It's the truth," Ginny answered simply, studying her fingernails.

"That's punishable by a life time imprisonment here," Draco said slowly.

"I know."

"And yet you are still willing to admit it?"

"Yes."

"Alright," Draco sighed. "We have to build the defense on something."

No reply.

"Did he ever abuse you physically?"

"No."

"Did he ever abuse you sexually?"

"No."

"Did he ever abuse you emotionally?"

"He wouldn't have enough time for that," she answered bitterly.

"What do you mean?"

"Nothing."

"I can't help you if you don't give me anything to work with it!" Draco said, frustrated.

"I don't need any help." Ginny said furiously.

"You are in Azkaban." Draco gave her a leveled look; did she truly not realize her situation?

"Because of my own doings."

"Yes, and like it or not, I am all you've got and I have to help you." Draco said.

"Or you will be stuck here like me."

"Yes."

Ginny did not bother to raise her voice during the whole 'fight'.

"I think that having you evaluated by a head-healer might help us." Draco said after a long while.

"Obviously, I'd have to be nuts to try to kill the Man Who Survived?" Ginny asked with something like sarcasm in her dry voice.

"I don't think so," Draco muttered, and Ginny gave him a questioning look. "But we are fighting against the whole wizarding world here, and he is their hero."

"Yes," she agreed slowly.

"Why did you stab him?" he had to ask that question sooner or later, and even though later seemed like a better option, he opted for now.

"Do you know how it feels if somebody 'loves' you for what you represent, rather than for what you really are?" her face regained its feverishness and her skinny hands moved violently through the air between them as she spoke. "What it's like to be expected to love a man, a man who was so shallow that whatever you gave simply wasn't enough? Can you imagine what it's like to be expected to marry someone whom you don't love? A person you will never, ever, love? What would you do if you were expected to marry a person that your own family loves more than you? How would you feel if you woke up day after day next to someone who's admired by everyone and you, and only you alone, know how ugly he really is on the inside?" At that, Ginny ran out of breath, and she was panting heavily while staring at him from behind the veil her dirty hair provided.

"No," Draco lied.

He knew that feeling. Well, maybe he did not marry a man he did not love. But he knew what it was like to be something everybody expects. And what is it like to be admired for all the wrong reasons. But he was not about to admit that to himself, let alone Ginny.

"Then you can't understand, and there is no point in defending me," Ginny whispered, calming down almost instantly.

"I…"

The door that led to her cell opened, and a dementor motioned for him to leave. Draco gave Ginny one last look that she did not return and picked up his briefcase to leave. He was helping someone who did not want any help, and he was failing already.


	3. Chapter 3

Belongs to JKR... blah blah blah

Third Chapter up! Enjoy!

* * *

Draco was working late again. Ironically enough, he was working late to save his once-enemy, as he thought with a bitter sarcasm. It's been two days since he visited Ginny in her sorry cell in Azkaban. It shed no light on the case. Ginny's unwillingness to cooperate was nothing but troublesome. He was rereading report from Ron Weasley who found Ginny with Potter's blood on her hands. The report was crystal clear in its connotation that Ginny was the killer. Ron was one of the witnesses of the prosecutor, who funnily enough was Hermione Granger-Weasley. Knowing that he's already wasted enough time, Draco decided that tomorrow would be a great day to pay a visit to his old school 'buddies'. Finally, he packed his briefcase and Apparated home.

At home he was greeted by a silhouette of a person sleeping on his couch. The 'pop' of his Apparation had obviously woken the person up, as he or she stirred and slowly raised on his or her elbows.

"Draco? Is that you?" called a rather familiar voice.

Draco put down his briefcase and hanged his cloak on the hanger rack in the hall. He did not live at the Manor any longer. The place just reminded him and his mother of the time when Voldemort made it his headquarters. They lived in a smaller, but equally expensive family mansion in Wales.

"Hello Pansy," he said lightly when he recognized the speaker.

It was one o'clock in the morning, and he was quite tired, but in couple of minutes he was pouring drinks to both of them.

"So what are you doing here?" he asked, with a Firewhiskey in his hand, sitting comfortably leaned against Pansy who was massaging his shoulders.

"I thought it would be a good idea to come and visit you," she replied, as he sighed in relief when she massaged a particularly tight spot. "And I was right. You are not taking a good care of yourself. Narcissa would be angry if she knew. Where is she, anyway?"

"Mother is taking a holiday at Corsica," Draco replied.

"So is there any reason for coming home this late?" Pansy asked in a motherly voice that Draco disliked very much.

"Yeah, I went clubbing," Draco said rudely, he hated when Pansy tried to act as his mother.

"Seriously," Pansy rolled her eyes. "In your work robes and with a briefcase? No wonder you did not pick up anybody."

"I was assigned the Potter/Weasley case."

"That makes more sense," Pansy said, as he moved away for she finished the massage. "Nobody believes that the Weasley stabbed him anyway. Everyone thinks that it's just something Rita is trying to pull."

"Well, according to her brother she did," Draco said his disinterest apparent in his voice.

"Are you going to get her out?" Draco gave her a curious look, she was taking more interest in the case that was needed, but he thought that he could not blame her, they were their archenemies, and it was just expected.

"I don't know," he muttered, fighting to keep his eyes opened- the couch was a little too comfy.

"Off to bed with you," Pansy ordered, noticing his fatigue. "You need to stop working so late, Draco. You are taking your job way too seriously."

"At least I have a job," he mumbled before he obeyed her, and giving her a quick peck on the cheek, went to bed.

* * *

"Oh, look, it's the ferret," Ronald Weasley said in a rather audible whisper as Draco Malfoy entered Harry Potter's room at St. Mungos.

"Hello to you too," Draco said in a bored voice, acknowledging Ron's 'greeting' as Harry chuckled on his words.

"What brings _you_ here?" Harry asked, wrinkling his nose in disgust.

"Your wife, Potter," Draco could not help himself, but enjoy the pain that was apparent on Potter's face and the redness of the Weasel's.

"What about Ginny?" Ron asked defensively, and it took all the effort he could manage for Draco not to laugh at the worry mixed with anger on Ron's face.

"I am her advocate, and you two are the main witnesses for the hearing on January 2nd at three o'clock PM."

"Oh," was the only reply he got.

"I have to interview you both…"

No reply- they were still obviously trying to connect the dots in their brains.

"I'll start with Potter, and then Weasley and I can go for a cup of coffee and have a chat."

"I won't let you kill Harry!" Ron almost yelled.

"I am not trying to kill your boyfriend, Weasley," Draco said, briefly wondering how stupid the Weasel really was.

"Then why do you want to be alone with him, huh?" Ron asked angrily, his hand on his wand.

"I just told you that I have to talk to him about his wife." Draco replied in a bored voice.

"Ex-wife," Potter, who seemed to regain his senses, quickly corrected him.

"You did not expect him to stay with her after she almost tried to kill him?" Weasley asked, sneering a bit.

"Are you going to leave?" Draco repeated his request, not wanting to show his surprise on the coldness showed by this bunch of Gryffindors.

"Fine, it's not like you can keep her out of Azkaban," Ron said, walking out of the room. "I will be outside, call if he tries something." his last words were direct at St. Harry.

"I am a fully trained auror, Ron!" Potter called after his best-friend.

"Great," Draco muttered, summoning a chair and sat down next to Potter's bed.

He took out a dictaphone and turned it on and dictated: "Interview with Harry James Potter on December 20th at 11 o'clock."

"Mr. Potter, tell me what happened on November 28th after you arrived home?"

"Ginevra Weasley, my ex-wife, stabbed me with a kitchen knife. I don't remember much else."

"Would you say that the attack was provoked?"

Silence.

"No."

"How would you describe your relationship with Ginevra Weasley?"

"I thought that she was happy with me. I gave her no reason to stab me." Harry gave Draco an empty look.

"Could explain 'happy' in more detail?" Draco fought hard to keep the sarcasm out of his voice.

"She never said that she was unhappy. I gave her everything she asked for." Potter remained emotionless, although it was obvious that he was boiling under the surface.

"How would you describe your sexual relationship with your wife?" Draco inquired in a serious voice.

"Malfoy," the warning in Potter's voice was rather obvious.

"Can you answer the question?" Draco asked, acting as if he missed the warning.

"Great. We always had great sex." Harry answered with his jaw clenched.

"Are you aware of any abuse coming from you?" Draco continued as if nothing happened.

"No." Harry shook his hand, still looking at the other wizard defiantly.

"Can you think of a reason for the assault?"

He hesitated, "No."

"Did you argue with her at all that day?" Draco approached another question that might shed some light on the case.

"No." Harry countered easily.

"The day before?"

"No."

"That week?"

"No."

"That month?"

"No."

"Why didn't you argue?" Draco was rather surprised by Potter's answers; in his career, he's had many cases that concerned couples, but in all of them, the two people came to a disagreement at least once in a while.

"We had a happy marriage." Harry replied, his face reddened as if he was offended by the suggestion.

It was obvious that Draco would not get much more from Potter, so he gave up.

"Thank you for your time, Mr. Potter."

No reply.

Draco closed the door behind him and walked over to Ron Weasley who was sitting on one of the couches in the waiting room, his tall frame oddly crouched down to fit in the seat.

"He is still alive," Draco stated coldly, before Ron had enough time to open his mouth. "Care to join me for a cup of coffee?"

"Fine," Ron nodded, walking towards the lift with Draco- it was obvious that he saw no way out of the interrogation.

They took the lift to the top floor of St. Mungo's and entered the tea room. Draco's nose wrinkled when he saw the menu that offered only tea, while Ron did not say anything and order Camille tea. Draco's dictaphone made an appearance once again when Draco summoned it out of his pocket and placed it on the table.

"Interview with Ronald Billius Weasley on December 20th eleven thirty," Draco dictated.

"How do you know my middle name?" Ron asked suspiciously.

"I did my homework, it was on the report you filled out, Mr. Weasley," Draco was treating him with respect only because of the recording device.

"Okay."

"You were the one that found Harry James Potter after being stabbed an attacker?"

"Yes, and it was not 'an attacker', it was Ginevra Molly Potter nee Weasley," Ron stated with a hot flash in his eyes.

"Keep your opinions to yourself, Mr. Weasley, I am interested only in the facts," Draco reminded him coolly.

"Then yes," Ron replied in the same tone of voice.

"What makes you think that Ginevra Potter stabbed Mr. Potter?" Draco inquired, taking a sip from his cup.

"She admitted to it…" Ron stated, giving Draco a leveled look.

"Could you repeat what happened on November 28th after you entered the Potters' home?"

"I was bringing Harry some parchments from work, when I walked in to see him on the floor, all bloodied 'n stuff. She was sitting across from him, holding the bloody knife. I asked her what happened and she just looked at me and at him and then at the knife with this odd look on her face. I said 'no' and then she said 'yes'. I think that it was pretty obvious what she was talking about." Ron said, screwing his face in order to remember the event more clearly.

"Are you aware of any abuse in their relationship?" Draco continued with his questions.

"No." Ron replied simply.

"How would you describe their relationship?"

"They seemed happy. Whenever I interacted with them, they'd act as a normal couple. Although, Ginny was sometimes a little bit distant. I always thought it was because of the diary incident," Ron gave Draco a hard look.

Draco could not think of any more questions without giving his weak defense away.

"Thank you for your time, Mr. Weasley."

Ron just nodded, and Draco picked up his briefcase and dictaphone, getting read to leave. He apparated out of the first floor of St. Mungo's to his office in Diagon Alley. He was looking forward to a nice cup of coffee while listening to the interrogation of H.J. Potter and R.B. Weasley, but he was interrupted when an attractive, tall dark-haired woman entered his office.

"Hello Sheryl," he greeted her, giving her a questioning look- she should know better than to bother him when he is tired.

"Mr. Malfoy," she smiled, handing him a piece of parchment.

"What is this?" Draco, without at least skimming the parchment, looked at her questioningly.

"An owl from Ms. Pansy Parkinson. It arrived this morning," Sheryl replied.

"Oh," Draco nodded as Sheryl turned to leave. "Wait, Sheryl, could you do me a favor and Floo-call the office of Hermione Granger? I would like to schedule a meeting with her about the Potter case. Make it as soon as possible."

"Of course, Mr. Malfoy," the witch nodded before walking out.

Draco meanwhile unfolded the note; Pansy was announcing to him that she scheduled a lunch at twelve, and that he'd better make it if he does not want Narcissa notified about his bad eating and sleeping habits. Draco frowned, but then he decided that lunch with Pansy is exactly what he needed right now, and so he grabbed his cloak before venturing outside his office.

"Mrs. Hermione Granger is available this afternoon. I scheduled a dinner," Sheryl told him as he walked by, and Draco acknowledged it with a nod.

It was snowing again when he walked outside, and Draco dully realized that he did not have time for any Christmas shopping yet. His mother was due to come back in three days, and he knew that she would expect a present. And so would Pansy. He briefly though of his 'client'- maybe she would like a present too. He doubted that he would have much time to attend Christmas parties this year due to his job, but he would definitely have to attend at least one or two.

In these happy thoughts he made it all the way to the Italian restaurant where Pansy booked the table. There were Christmas decorations on the walls, and the butler wished him a 'Merry Christmas' when he handed him his cloak. Another waiter took him to the table where Pansy was already waiting for him. He thought that she looked very elegant in a black dressed that reached to her calves.

"I am here," he stated rudely as he sat down.

"I can see that," she replied with a pleasant smile.

"I have a favor to ask you," Draco said, changing the tone of his voice.

"Yes?" Pansy raised her eyes from the menu.

"It seems that I am in need of a head-healer…"

"I told you that you were working too hard," Pansy said with a victorious smile.

"…to examine Ginevra Weasley." Draco finished, which erased Pansy's victorious smile off of her face.

"I thought it was Ginevra _Potter_." She said, hiding her surprise quickly.

"He divorced her. I found out this morning," Draco stated, skimming the drink menu.

"Oh. Well, when do you recon I should pay the pleasant visit?" Pansy asked sardonically.

"I was hoping that today would work for you," Draco stated, not missing the sarcasm and at the same time not being bothered enough as to reply to it.

"I _was_ going to do some Christmas shopping…" Pansy said as a waiter approached their table.

"As if you needed to do more shopping," Draco muttered. "I would like white wine spritzer," he ordered.

"Water," Pansy said to the waiter. "Drinking early in the day, are we?"

Draco shrugged in reply.

"Why do you want me to check on her?"

"If she was insane, it would at least give me a motive. As of now, she just randomly stabbed her husband, who just happens to be the hero and savior of the wizarding world." Draco replied, his tone showing that what Pansy inquired should have been obvious.

"Are there any leads at all?" Pansy asked, well-accustomed with Draco's usual process of building a defense.

"Not really," he said, massaging his temples as the waiter brought their drinks. "She is not very cooperative. It does not seem that she was provoked. Potter said that they didn't fight, and that they had a 'happy' marriage. There has to be something, and I just can't put my finger on it."

"What about her family?" Pansy asked, taking a sip from her water. "I mean, I know that they can't probably afford bailing her out, but did they at least try?"

"Nothing," Draco said before turning to the waiter. "Capellini Pomodoro."

"La Bruschetta," Pansy voiced her order and the food appeared in front of them.

"They let her rot in Azkaban without even trying to get her out?" Pansy asked with her disbelief evident in her voice.

"I couldn't believe it either. All that bullshit about love and equality, and the Weasleys leave their own daughter in Azkaban. Who would expect that?" Draco nodded, picking at his food.

"Alright, I'll see what I can do for your case," Pansy nodded. "I'll go to Azkaban this afternoon."

"Great," Draco's voice lacked enthusiasm. "Here is a note that you are working for me." He handed her a folded parchment.

"I could have said no, you know," Pansy replied, frowning slightly as she ate.

"I knew you wouldn't. Malfoy charm always prevails," Draco grinned weakly.

"You need to get more sleep. Narcissa will murder you and then me if she finds you in this state," Pansy said, being able to see the dark circles under his eyes that she could not see before.

"A few glamour charms should do it," Draco brushed her off, scooping more noodles with his fork hungrily.

"So fancy to accompany me to Azkaban this afternoon?"

"Can't, I have a dinner with Mrs. Hermione Granger, and before that I want to go over the case one more time."

"Aw, dating married women? That's sort of immoral, even for a Malfoy," Pansy joked, as they got up and Draco threw a few Sickles on the table.

"Don't insult me, Pansy," Draco said, holding the cloak for her. "She is the prosecutor."

"Her best friend?" Pansy was obviously surprised at this tidbit of knowledge. "Talk about turning tables, eh?"

"Yes, now hurry up, the last ferry leaves at three o'clock and you don't want to miss it," Pansy nodded, apparated out and Draco was left alone once again.

Draco spent the rest of the afternoon working, specifically going over the details and trying to find the one he missed. His analytical mind told him that there was something that he was constantly missing. Something that was crucial to winning this case, but for the sake of Merlin's beard, he could not put his finger on it. Finally, exhausted by the day's events, he apparated home where he took a quick shower and dressed in his formal and more intimidating robes, before the meeting with Hermione Granger.

He Apparated to the restaurant that he let her pick out of politeness and handed his cloak over to a butler, before going to meet Hermione. He spotted her at a table near the window, and slowly strolled over. In his opinion, her looks did not improve much since their school times. Actually, he would say that they deteriorated. There were light wrinkles on her face, and the skin on her throat was not as tight as it used to be; it was kind of hanging down from her jaw like an old lady's.

"Evening," he said, sitting down next to her.

"Hello, Malfoy," she answered politely. "You desired a meeting?"

"Yes," he drawled. "I wanted to talk to you about the details of the Potter case."

"Of course," she nodded politely, ordering a steak. "What can I do for you?"

"What exactly are you accusing her of and what punishment are you requesting?" Draco inquired, ordering a Greek salad.

"Ginevra Weasley is accused of an attempted murder of Harry James Potter, just as I stated in the prosecution declaration my office owled you," Hermione said, taking a huge bite off her fork. "As the representative of the state, the prosecution will ask for the kiss."

If he had not been trained to never, ever, show any emotion, Draco's mouth would fall open and he would gap at his dinning companion. But since he'd been trained to be emotionless, he just had a trouble swallowing a bit of salad. He drunk some water to wash it down.

"The kiss? For your own friend?" he raised his eyebrows slightly, but his voice stayed even and he did not betray how her words shocked him.

"Justice and punishment have to be objective," Hermione said, mimicking Draco's lack of emotion. "As a prosecutor working for the state, I have no friends and I do no favors. Ginevra will be prosecuted to the extreme to exemplify the extents of her actions."

"I will need a list of your witnesses," Draco stated, still shaken by Hermione's obvious fanaticism of justice.

"Of course," she nodded again.

Draco did not reply. He simply watched as Hermione finished her steak on a rapid pace, a habit, he assumed, she learned from her husband.

"Well, if that's all, I'll be getting home," she said standing up. "I have to take care of my children. If you need anything else, Malfoy, owl me."

Draco was left alone in the mediocre restaurant that she picked. He's heard of Hermione Granger's extreme procedures before, but he never assumed that they would be this bad. He knew of her advocate career, but he never worked with her before, and he was quite taken away by her. It was not the nice taken-away either, she was scary. He replayed her voice in his head, _'Justice and the punishment have to be objective_…' It reminded him of his aunt Bellatrix after the return of the Dark Lord. The Death Eaters too were just serving 'justice', and their punishments were extreme. He smirked at the irony that the 'good' guys were as just obsessive and cruel as the 'bad' guys. For one, he knew that his family would never turn their backs on him in favor of somebody else. He also assumed that neither of his best friends, Pansy or Blaise, would forget him if he was in need and locked away in prison. So, he concluded, the winning side dictated rules, regardless of their cruelty. Draco smirked again.

He Apparated home, and there still was no Pansy. He decided to wait for her; she probably took a late ferry back. Yet, when she finally did come back around eleven PM, she found him sound-asleep on the couch and moved him to bed. They could talk tomorrow.

* * *

Originally I was planning on making this chapter longer, and adding Draco's and Pansy's visit in Azkaban. But it's 2 AM here and I am rather tired, so I shall write it tomorrow or whenever I'll have the time. Please do excuse the spelling mistakes, as it is quite late here and I AM tired. 


	4. Chapter 4

Sorry that I kept you waiting- I got tied up with school stuff and homework. I am hoping to update this weekend, but I can't promise anything. Thank you all for reading!

Belongs to JKR, duh!

* * *

A loud pop. A person with a dark cloak around him or her with the hood drawn down. He or she was standing in front of the Burrow, the residence of the Weasleys. He or she slowly strolled towards the door, taking his or her time walking and knocked on the door in three rasp knocks. It was opened by a plump, short witch with red hair. She raised her eyebrows questioningly and then the stranger shook his head and it revealed a rather gloom face of _the_ Harry Potter. 

"Oh, Harry," Molly said, obviously relieved that it was indeed, him. "I am glad to see you. Come in, come in."

She ushered him in, taking his cloak and summoning a nice pair of old, brown slippers for him, which he gratefully accepted.

"Thank you, Molly," he thanked her with a smile.

Harry followed Mrs. Weasley into their small kitchen. There was a tea kettle foaming on the stove, and Mrs. Weasley was already bringing him some toast and eggs on a plate.

"Eat, dear," she put the plate down in front of him, and summoned them a cup of tea. "Now, how come you are not at the hospital?"

"I got discharged this morning," Harry said, appreciating the improvement that Mrs. Weasley's cooking was to the hospital food. "I decided to come here and see that if maybe Ron or Hermione…"

Harry did not have to finish his sentence. Mrs. Weasley knew why he apparated to Burrow, rather than to the house at Oak Meadow that he and Ginny shared- used to share. Mrs. Weasley's expression softened and her eyes watered.

Harry, not sure what he should do, reached across the table and squeezed her hand, "I am sorry."

"It's not your fault," Mrs. Weasley said, wiping her tears. "I don't know what went wrong. I mean, Ronald told me everything he saw, but I-I just can't figure it out…"

Harry was watching the crying witch in front of him, and he was at loss what to do. He felt bad that his injury brought despair into the Weasley family. When he was at the hospital, he was visited by all of them, but with the exception of Ron who kept coming up with more and more inventive ways to curse his sister, the other Weasley avoided the subject.

Harry's dilemma was solved when Charlie waltzed into the kitchen. With the grace of a dragon-tamer, he tripped over a chair and landed his bulky frame in a seat next to Harry.

"Hey Harry," he greeted him, while Mrs. Weasley turned away to bring him breakfast and to stop crying.

"Hi, Charlie," Harry grinned back.

"Out of St. Mungos, then, I see," Charlie commented as his mother handed him a big plate filled with sausages and eggs.

"Yup," Harry nodded, and Mrs. Weasley rejoined them at the table.

There was an awkward silence for a while, and the two men ate in silence. All the three people in the small, Weasley kitchen were avoiding the same subject, the subject that was of a great interest to all of them.

Charlie was the first one to break the silence, "So, Harry," he cleared his throat, "want to tell us how it happened?"

His mother threw him a warning look, and opened her mouth to surely scold him for the insensitive question, but Harry was faster

"It's not a problem, Molly," he smiled at her, and then looked back at Charlie. "I came home and she was just there. Her hair was all spread out around her face, and she had this weird expression on her face. As if she was mad, but I don't know if she was, and then she took the kitchen knife and stabbed me in the chest," Harry's voice was hard as he said that.

"Was it like she was possessed?" Charlie asked slowly, as Mrs. Weasley started weeping for her daughter again.

"She looked possessed," Harry admitted, recalling the image of Ginevra coming at him with the knife.

"Like when she was used by Tom Riddle in her first year?" Charlie continued with an involuntary shudder at the name.

"Not quite…" Harry's forehead wrinkled in an effort to remember.

"Why would she do it though?" Mrs. Weasley asked between her sobs.

"I don't know," Harry answered absently.

He, Ron and Hermione went over all the possibilities while he was in the hospital. Ron personally interrogated Ginny before they sent her to Azkaban. She neither confirmed nor refuted any of the accusations that were howled at her by the on-watchers or the aurors.

"Have you guys seen her since…?" Harry let the question hang unfinished- Ron had told him that no one from their family had visited or contacted Ginny, but Harry found that hard to believe; if the Weasleys were anything, they were truly devoted to their family.

Mrs. Weasley slowly shook her head, "We-we could not."

After that Mrs. Weasley offered Harry to stay at the Burrow which he politely declined, and she excused herself from the table, suddenly having some incredibly important business to attend to far out in the yard.

Charlie looked after her worriedly, "She's been like this ever since it happened."

"Why?" Harry furrowed his brow, for he could not quite understand why Mrs. Weasley was now crying more than she cried during the war.

"She considers you to be her son, and Ginny, well, Ginny is her daughter. She can't pick between her kids," Charlie explained, pointedly avoiding Harry's eyes.

It was obvious. The Weasleys had picked Harry over their own daughter. Despite the situation, and that Harry was probably supposed to feel bad for his ex-wife who was now abandoned by her own family, Harry felt a warm feeling inside. He's never had a family or parents that would love him like the Weasleys had loved their children. Except that now he saw their love belonged to _him_. They would rather leave Ginny in Azkaban than to abandon him when he needed them.

"I am sorry," Harry repeated to Charlie who gave him a questioning look.

"It's not your fault, mate," he replied after a long while. "I wish it was just an accident. But she, I don't know, mate, it's a terrible feeling to realize that you don't even know your own sister. Who would expect that?"

Harry, having no desire to answer that question, departed, explaining to Charlie that he was supposed to meet Ron and Hermione for a brunch later and that he wanted to stop by the auror offices before that.

* * *

Many miles away from the Burrow, Draco Malfoy awoke to the bright sunlight that was coming into his room through the opened shades. Being once awoken, he could not resume his state of slumber, and so he took a quick shower and went to hunt for food. He discovered his prey at the set table, in front of a dark-haired witch, and in the form of appetizing-looking sausages. 

"Morning Pans," Draco greeted the witch who was spreading a low layer of butter on a piece of toast.

"Slept well?" Pansy asked, clearly satisfied with the layer of butter and taking a bite off the toast.

Draco nodded in reply, too busy cutting his sausages and forking them down.

"In bit of a hurry, are we?" Pansy asked, watching him eat his food quickly.

"Yeah, I have to take the ferry to Azkaban, and somehow I am not too eager to spend my whole day there," Draco replied.

"Aw, I'd think that spending a day with Ginny Weasley, who is by the way still very cute, and couple dementors would be fun," Pansy mocked, but Draco caught a bit of seriousness in her voice.

"So what did you find out?" Draco asked, appearing to ignore her comment.

"She is sane. She is absolutely and fully aware of her actions. She has no problems distinguishing between right and wrong, and she is capable of understanding consequences. What she did, she did because she wanted to do it, and not because she was mad or possessed or anything else," Pansy stated dully, watching Draco for a reaction from under her eyelashes.

Draco frowned, "Are you sure?"

"Yes. I have never seen a case like that though," Pansy said with a slight undertone of awe in her voice. "She is rather unusual that way."

"That did not get us anywhere, then," Draco stated dryly.

Neither of them bothered to mention the option of Pansy testifying falsely; there was no need of it. Draco, and possibly Pansy too, were both way too familiar with the trial process that they knew it would not work. Draco assumed from the beginning than Hermione Granger-Weasley would play hard, and that all his witnesses will not be only spoon-fed Veritaserum, but also double-checked in any and all of their statements. Especially, if the said statements were on the mental health of Ginevra Weasley.

"If she is sane, then why would she try to kill him? He is her husband," Pansy voiced the riddle that was on Draco's mind.

"I don't know, Pans," he replied. "But I think that I will find out soon enough."

And with that, he stood up from the breakfast table, gave Pansy a quick peck, and disapparated.

Draco watched the grey oceanic water that surrounded the ferry, and he decided that it rather suited his mood. While he was intrigued by the mysterious persona of Ginny Weasley, he had no desire to visit the island fortress again. Ever again. It was his job though, and Draco Malfoy knew what duty meant. He's learned that the hard way, harder probably than the most. Certainly harder than Potter or Weasley, he thought with a cynical, grim expression on his handsome features. Draco caught himself thinking of those dark times and quickly shook his head as if to clear it; if there was a wrong time to think those thoughts, then it was now. He got off the ferry, and went through the joyous ceremony of being admitted to Azkaban. The security wizard looked at him grimly, his eyes empty and colorless, and Draco suddenly felt appreciation for his nice, comfy, dementor-free office job.

Ginny was sitting at her cot, hugging her long, slender legs close to her body. Her clothes were the same as the last time, her expression still emotionless, but Draco thought that she lost some weight in the four days he had not seen her.

"Hello," he cleared his throat and put down his briefcase.

Ginny did not respond verbally, however, she raised her eyes to meet his.

"I have bad news," Draco started; it was better to get it over with right away, he thought. "The prosecution is going to ask for the Kiss. I thought that they were going to go for life in prison, but she is going to push it further. I think it is because of your husband."

"Ex-husband," Ginny whispered.

"My bad, your ex-husband," Draco corrected himself.

"So Hermione took the case, didn't she?" Ginny muttered, and Draco was not sure if she was talking to him or not.

"Yes, the prosecutor is Hermione Granger-Weasley," Draco nodded, he wondering how she knew that, but he knew better than to ask. "I have interviewed her main witnesses. I am going to be honest with you; this case does not look good."

"Ah, I am not worried, Malfoy," Ginny said, now studying her fingernails that were chipped and broken- obviously the Azkaban food was low on protein and vitamin D. "You will get me out of here to save your own arse. And if you don't, then well, I don't care."

"How can you not care?" Draco forced his voice to be calm for talking to Ginny Weasley was more frustrating than he would like to admit.

"Do you think I would have stabbed him if I cared about my life?" Ginny answered coolly.

To that, Draco had no reply; instead he decided to go elsewhere:

"So why _did_ you stab him?"

No answer.

Draco sighted, and run his hands through his slick hair. This was going nowhere. She simply would not cooperate. It was so very frustrating!

"Okay, Weasley," Draco took a deep breath. "I know that you are going through your family drama, with all of them turning on you. I can imagine that it is rather tragic, but I am here to help you. I cannot do that unless you _let_ me help you. I can't work with questions if you are the one holding all the answers! I am asking you one last time, are you going to help me at all?"

Ginny slowly raised her eyes to meet his. His face was flushed after the little speech he just gave, and she seemed to be mildly amused by that.

"You don't want to help _me_. You are doing this for yourself."

Why was she so stubborn? Draco almost wailed in his head. The witch in front of him was impossible. She was on a trail for her soul, and she was questioning his motives. He ran his hand through his hair again, ruffling his perfect hair-do slightly.

He was not quite sure how to reply: "If I was a _pro bono_ lawyer, and doing it just to help you, would you cooperate?"

That question seemed to trouble Ginny. There was a few-second pause before she responded with a 'No.'

And that just added to Draco's overall frustration, "You don't get it, do you? You are going to lose your soul unless you allow me to help you. Moreover, there is my life at stake too. I don't want to end up in Azkaban, I hate it here. My mother will die without me."

At the mention of his mother, Ginny did the last thing he expected her to do. She started crying. It was not loud wailing or muffled sobs, there were just tears running down her cheeks. And soon it seemed like a waterfall.

"Always the same Draco Malfoy," Ginny managed to choke out. "You only think of yourself."

Draco wanted to argue with her, but he saw that it was the wrong time. He simply handed her his handkerchief. Had she been Pansy or a friend that he knew, he would have put his arm around her, but she was still Ginny Weasley, yet there was something attractive about the thought. And without further ado, Draco followed his first instinct and sat on the cot next to Ginny. He slowly put his arm around her, while she cried into his expensive robes. He had finally got the notion that the witch in the cell was, indeed, human rather than some unemotional goddess. He had talked to the security guards, and they all said that she would never cry or talk from her sleep like the others did. Draco was split in his opinion on the young witch; on one hand, he saw a strong young woman that resisted the cruelties of her fate and on the other, he saw her break just now.

It seemed that she cried forever. But when Ginny finally lifter her tear-strained face, Draco realized that this was the first time he saw her real beauty.

"I am sorry that they left you," Draco murmured as Ginny dried her eyes and moved a farther away from him, much to his disappointment.

"Don't be sorry," Ginny replied bitterly. "It was their choice."

Draco just stared at her, as she slipped back to her 'strong' self.

"I am sorry for my earlier behavior," Ginny apologized, obviously forcing her voice to sound calm. "I will try not to take you down with me. Or your mum."

"Thanks," Draco muttered, bowing his head lightly.

"What exactly do you want to know?"

Finally! She was cooperating. Maybe it was still possible to win this case!

"Why did you stab him?"

"I hated him. I hated the life I was forced to have," she paused. "It was them. My brother, Hermione and Harry, ever since my first year at Hogwarts they were the heroes. I was always just Harry Potter's side-kick's sister. He never respected me, even when we were dating, and he carried it into our marriage. I hated their ideals, idioms and the way the three of them reversed our society." Now Ginny was blushing lightly as she finished.

Draco raised his eyebrows at the last statement, "Are you, by any chance, referring to the new ministry reforms?"

Ginny nodded enthusiastically, "They are breaking the tradition. Muggles are not supposed to know about us. And that is for a reason. Hermione and Harry with their Muggle-hugging policies are breaking havoc in the wizarding society."

Draco secretly agreed with her, but he knew better than to voice that sort of thoughts in public. Always cautious, he gave Ginny a pointed look and pressed his finger on the lips to indicate that she should not talk about it. Ginny understood instantly and stopped talking.

"Is someone listening?" she mouthed.

Draco shrugged, "They could be. Let's not risk it."

"I see," he added in his normal voice. "Would you say that Harry James Potter was emotionally and/or mentally abusive during the six years you've been married to him?"

"Yes," Ginny nodded.

"We can definitely use that," Draco nodded. "Is there someone, anyone, that may testify to this?"

"I don't know," Ginny said. "Maybe Luna Lovegood. Neville or Colin would never testify for me now. Luna might though, or maybe my brother's wife, Fleur."

"I will contact them as soon as possible," Draco nodded, tapping a piece of parchment with the tip of his wand as she talked.

Ginny raised her eyebrows questioningly at this activity, "Okay."

"Is there anything else that might help us build a solid defense?" Draco asked, completely blown away by the progress they've made today.

"I can't think of anything right now," Ginny said.

"You can owl me if you remember something," Draco said, and Ginny cackled.

"I am in prison. Owl post is hardly allowed here.."

"Ask one of the guards, they will owl any piece of writing for you," Draco said.

"I will," Ginny said. "Thanks, Malfoy."

And Draco walked out of her cell, feeling emotionally and mentally drained once again.

* * *

Sorry! This was a short one. Only 3000 words. It was supposed to include Draco's shopping trip (he goes shopping too!) But I figured that an update is more important than another 300 words. So yes, here is a little preview, Draco goes shopping for Christmas prezzies! 

Oh by the way, I am in a serious need of a Beta reader to proof read this fic for me before I post it on the D/G archive. Anyone interested please contact me via e-mail or PM. (This wasn't proof read either, I simply did not have the time sorry).


	5. Chapter 5

I am sorry that it took me forever to update! I've been really busy with school and other things, and basically too busy to writing anything. This is just another chapter that is shorter than I originally planned it to be, but I figured that a short update is better than no update. I promise to try to write a longer one this weekend, but I don't know if I'll have the time, I will try though!

Disclaimer: Belongs to JKR... yada yada yada

* * *

Draco made his way down Diagon Alley. He had spent a rather eventful morning at Azkaban during which he had been insulted, had a Weasley cry into his robes, and stepped into something yucky which messed up his shoes. It was not a surprise that he was in a very gloomy mood. Draco, although pleased with the turn of the events, was shocked by the change in his client. She, who always appeared so strong, now openly cried into his robes. Replaying the scene in his mind, he was struck by the perversity and crudity of it; he held a Weasley on his chest in an Azkaban cell. It was very un-Malfoy-ish in his opinion. Not that he did not like the sensation her closeness gave him… Draco frowned; did he really just think that? Did he seriously say in his mind that he liked touching a Weasley? He was disgusted with himself. Draco admitted that the differences in social status lessened in importance in the years following Voldemort's defeat, but that was preposterous. Offended by his own thoughts, and not looking where he was going, he bumped into a grubby elderly witch of shrunk figure dressed in number of shawls wrapped around her shoulders and holding an empty can in one bony hand. He quickly steadied her, and stepped back.

"Sorry," he muttered and wanted to pass by her.

"Something on Mister's mind, eh? Maybe, lass..." the witch muttered, and Draco gave her an odd look, very eager to walk on.

"No, thank you," he muttered, desiring to get away from her.

"She is in trouble, isn't she? I could help you, and her. A Knut for an old woman, and it will be alright," the witch said in a yappy voice, that reminded Draco of a duck.

"No, thank you. I have to go," he muttered again, pushing her out of the way.

"The woman of your interest will perish before you can help her. It will be your fault," the woman called after him, but he kept walking on.

_Ah, I hate beggars_, Draco thought, as he made his way to a prominent jewelry store. Christmas was around the corner, and he had to order gifts for Mother, Pansy, Blaise and others. Draco, following Lucius' example, always thought jewelry to be an appropriate gift for every occasion, and he did not mind spending extra money on obtaining the exact thing he had in mind. However, today, his mind was set rather on a certain redhead than on his Mother or friends.

"G'morning, Mr. Malfoy," the shop owner greeted him. His name, as Draco recalled, was Mr. Jenkins, a rather tall, lanky man with a great knowledge of jewels.

"Good morning," Draco replied absent-mindedly, brooding on the ancient witch's prophecy.

"Christmas shopping?" Mr. Jenkins asked knowingly- Draco and Lucius shopped at the same place for Narcissa, and other female friends, for over two decades. "I got just the thing for you dear Mother, unless, of course, you have something particular in mind."

Draco snapped back to reality, "No, I don't have anything in mind. I shall take a look now, if you are not busy."

"Right away, Mr. Malfoy," Mr. Jenkins moved behind the polished marble counter in order to bring about a dark-blue velvet box. He opened it and held it out to Draco.

"It's 24 karat white-gold with dark blue beryls imported from Brazil and made in Italy," Mr. Jenkins rattled out quickly as Draco's eyes inspected the necklace. Indeed, it was beautiful; the white-gold held three gold-ball sized beryls in place, and a small, round beryl worked as a fastening. Draco nodded appreciatively- he knew enough about jewelry to recognize the fineness of the piece in front of him.

"I like it," he nodded. "I think that you are right, and it will be the perfect gift for Mother. I shall expect it to arrive on Christmas by owl post," Draco said.

"Of course," Jenkins nodded.

"I would like a tanzanite-and-silver set delivered as a present for Pansy Parkinson, sent by an owl post for Christmas. I believe that I have seen such a set here before," Draco continued, making it up as he went along.

"That would be this one," Mr. Jenkins waved his wand to summon the said set that had small tear-drop earrings, a tear drop necklace, bracelet and three rings included.

"Yes. Also, I want the regular charms placed on them" Draco agreed.

"Anything else I can help you with?" Mr. Jenkins asked, and Draco ignored him.

The last Malfoy was distracted by a simple diamond bracelet. It was a band of silver, by the look of it, not even expensive silver, with one small diamond triangle set in the middle of it. An image flashed through Draco's mind: the bracelet on a thin, paper-like wrist.

"What about that silver bracelet over there?" he asked, pointing at the piece he picked.

"Oh, that one," Mr. Jenkins nodded. "I don't think you would be interested in it."

"I would like to take a closer look at it," Draco persisted.

"Of course," Mr. Jenkins summoned the bracelet from its shelf. "It's a Muggle item, really. We tried a few charms, but I don't know. It should be sort of a 'good luck' charm," he chuckled, "to ward of evil. We tried to place a couple of charms on it, but we were not successful."

"I'll take it," Draco said deliberately.

"If you are sure," Mr. Jenkins had long since cease to ponder over Malfoy oddities- they were his best paying customers, and one had to make one's bread somehow. "Shall I send it with all the rest of the jewelry?"

"No, I will take it right now," Draco waited impatiently as the jeweler packed the selected item, and he quickly walked out of the store. He would get all the other less important presents for his friends later, or rather, make his secretary do it.

When Draco apparated back to the Manor, he was surprised by hearing voice in the drawing room. In the foyer, where he usually apparated to, he threw off his cloak to an expecting House-elf, and he went to investigate the source of the noise.

"Ah, Draco, there you are," his Mother's voice greeted him as he entered the room.

Pansy and Narcissa were sitting in the drawing room, and having tea. Draco had an urge to chuckle at the scene. Pansy and Narcissa always got along, and he knew that his Mother once hoped that he'd marry Pansy. How things were standing now, he knew it impossible. Not that he minded, he thought of Pansy as of a friend, rather than a potential lover, and he found her more interesting that way.

"Welcome home, Mother," he greeted her, leaning to kiss her on the cheek. "I assume Corsica was fastidious."

"It was indeed. The sea air did me good," Narcissa replied pleasantly. "You look a little pale, Draco-dear. I hope you are not over-working yourself."

"Of course not, Mother," Draco said in reply.

"Pansy was just telling me about your newest case," Narcissa continued in the same tone. "It is not too much, is it?"

"Of course not, Mother," Draco repeated.

"It is a good thing that the girl stabbed that vile Potter," Narcissa remarked. "He did defeat the Dark Lord, but he is not one of us even if he married a Pure-blood to be considered for the Ministry job…"

"Do you think that's why he married her?" Draco asked with interest, his Mother usually had an interesting way of looking at things, but he did not see that one coming.

"Ah, please, dear," Narcissa was too-well bred to roll her eyes, but the inclination to do so was apparent in her voice. "Of course he did. Even if they are passing all those edicts and laws to discountenance discrimination against the Muggles, most of us would not listen to them if they did not gain contacts through the Weasleys. Honestly, Draco, the Weasley do have connections with some of the more-prominent members of our society."

"It would make sense, Draco," Pansy, who kept quiet until then, joined in. "She obviously did not marry Potter out of love. And Granger and Weasley? Please, that's like the joke of the century. I have not see them talking in public without either yelling at each other, or proclaiming how Potter is great. You know better than either of us, how Hermione Granger-Weasley was the moving force behind those laws that were passed."

Draco nodded. If they were right and if he only could prove that they were right! It would bring such a turn to the society they lived in. Yet, he knew that going to the trail with such a controversial, not to mention _ad hominem_, argument would be destroy all the fragile evidence he has gathered so far.

"I have to owl someone. I will be back shortly," Draco said, turning away from the duo, and exiting the drawing room through the adjacent door that led to his study.

He sat down behind his Victorian ebony desk and quickly scribbled two notes. They said the same thing, although they were worded differently:

_Dear Ms. Lovegood/ Mrs. Weasley,  
I hope this is not an inconvenient time to owl you, but I am Ginevra Weasley's advocate in the Potter/Weasley case. It would be of tremendous help if I could talk to you as soon as possible in regards to the case._

_Signed, Draco Malfoy_

Draco summoned a House-elf and handed him the envelopes with instructions to dispatch them immediately.

* * *

I understand if everyone hates this chapter; wasn't my favorite either. It will get better&funnier! I promise!


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: Thanks to everyone who reviewed! I know that I keep saying this, but I promise to post a way longer chapter next time. And yeah, I know that I said I would update, like, I don't know, a week ago, but I didn't have time to type it all up. So here it is! The sixth chapter. I hope you'll like it!

* * *

The following morning Draco was awaited by two envelopes leisurely sitting at a silver tray at the breakfast table. _'At least they replied…_'he thought, as he sat down and poured himself some pumpkin juice. He was quite pleased with the progress he was making. From no evidence and an uncooperative client, he somehow eradicated a helpful one, and two possible testimonies in a matter of few days. Neither Narcissa, nor Pansy made an appearance at the breakfast yet, and so he decided to read through Luna Lovegood and Fleur Weasley's letters. 

"'morning, Drakie," Pansy greeted him, entering the dining room. Her eyes were still a bit puffy from sleep, but otherwise she looked, as per usual, absolutely stunning.

"Good morning, Pansy," he answered, still in a good mood.

"So what's that?" she asked, pointing to the letter he was holding. "More fan mail, eh?"

"You can put it that way," Draco smirked. "These are letters from Luna Lovegood and Fleur Weasley. Sound familiar?"

Pansy nodded, "Blaise used to like her when we were at Hogwarts, right?"

"Yup. She says that she is out of country right now, but she'll be returning shortly- partly because of the Potter case. I think she might be friendly inclined to Ginny, and thus testify on her behalf," Draco said proudly.

"What about Fleur Weasley?" Pansy inquired, pouring herself a cup of tea to go with her toast.

"I will meet with her this afternoon," Draco replied without much interest.

"She is a veela, isn't she?" Pansy continued, watching him for a reaction.

"I think that she might be a half-veela or something," Draco said, his face was clear of any emotion which seemed to satisfy Pansy.

"Good morning," Narcissa said in her most queen-like voice when she made an entrance wearing a light white dress despite the fact that it was December.

"Morning, Mother," Draco greeted her and rose from his chair- partly because he was taught to, and partly because he was about to leave.

"You are leaving already?" Narcissa asked clearly disappointed as Draco moved towards the two-winged, French door.

"Yes. I am sorry, Mother, I have quite a few things to attend to, but I should be here for the dinner," Draco muttered in excuse and left before Narcissa had a chance to comment, while Pansy was smiling knowingly during their exchange.

Draco spent his morning busying himself with his correspondence and buying presents for distant relatives and people he didn't generally care about. Of course, the case was always in the back of his mind, but he paid a close attention to keep it there. He certainly did not want to recall how nice it felt when his arms were around Ginny, or how strong she was though she was locked in Azkaban or how his quill reminded him of the colour of her hair, or well- anything related to his 'client' in general.

To clear his mind, Draco decided to go for a walk and then meet up with Fleur Weasley. He could easily pick her out in the small Italian restaurant where she proposed they would meet. Her light hair glowed among the other witches, her heavily-pregnant belly was another thing that separated her from the masses, and her style of clothing was also better compared to the rest of the women there. Draco soon joined her in a booth that ensured some privacy, where she was having a tea and he ordered some Firewhiskey for himself.

"Hello, Mrs. Weasley. Thank you for meeting up with me. My name is Draco Malfoy," Draco said formally and shook her hand.

"It's no problem, Mr. Malfoy. I sure do hope there is a rational explanation to all this madness," she said, delicately shaking her head. Draco noticed that her accent improved indefinitely since their school years when she was a contestant in the Tri-Wizard Tournament.

Draco smiled politely at her remark, "I understand that you were in close contact with the Potters during their marriage."

"Yes," Fleur agreed. "We were not as close, as say, Hermione, Ron and Harry, but we are family."

"If you don't mind, I'll start with the questions right away. I am sure you have more important engagements, so I won't hold you too long," Draco said, taking out his dictaphone and dictating Fleur's name and the date.

"Of course, I am happy to help you," Fleur said, giving him a charming smile.

Draco returned her smile with a reserved one of his own, "Would you say that you are familiar with their marriage relationship?"

"Just like anyone else in the family. Though, I doubt that they would be willing to talk to you," Fleur said with a hint of sarcasm in her voice.

Draco smirked, "I am sure your sister-in-law will appreciate this."

"I do hope so," Fleur replied. "I know Ginny. She must have had a reason."

"Do you know of any disputes between them?" Draco inquired, noting but deciding not remark upon her comment.

"I-," Fleur hesitated, "I suppose that they kept their arguments private. I am not aware of them fighting ever publicly, and that is saying something; the Weasleys are known for their temper. I always assumed that they had a harmonious marriage. Ginny loved him, in the beginning anyway."

"What do you mean?" Draco asked, intrigued.

"On certain occasions, I just sort of got the feeling that she is not happy with him. I am not sure how to explain it," Fleur explained eerily, "It was something in her eyes. They were sad."

Draco nodded- he knew exactly what she meant, "I see."

"Whenever I saw this, I thought that I was imagining things. But I assume that this confirms it," Fleur added as an afterthought sardonically.

"Why do you think she was unhappy?" Draco was irked by that fact but continued with the interview, making sure to keep any personal emotions out of his expression.

"I am not sure," Fleur took a sip from her drink before continuing. "She probably expected more from her marriage. More than Harry was ready to give," she paused, "Don't misunderstand me; Harry is wonderful. Though, I always thought that he was rather absorbed in Hermione, Ron and their adventures. I think that Ginny was affected by that aspect of his personality more than the rest of us."

"Would you say that he was emotionally abusive?" Draco asked, purposefully leading her in a new direction.

"I cannot say that I knew of any direct abuse from his side. He might have neglected her sometimes, but I don't think that he did it on purpose." Fleur said, furrowing her brow as she tried to recall their marriage more clearly.

"Is there anything else?" Draco asked, quite taken away by the similarity of responses he received.

"I always thought them a harmonious pair. Even when they dated after the war; they were not fighting much. Actually, I don't think that they ever fought at all. At the time, I thought it unnatural, but I was happy for them." Fleur paused again, "Ginny might have closed up for this very reason. She probably felt that he did not care enough about her opinion to argue with her. I hope it helps somehow, Mr. Malfoy."

"It does," Draco replied honestly- it would make his client happy, if nothing else. "If anything else comes to mind, please feel free to owl me. Thanks for your help, and if there is a need for a witness, I hope it is alright to call you to the stand to testify in her defense."

"I am willing to help Ginny in any way possible," Fleur said resolutely, and Draco rose to leave.

"Once again, thank you for your time, Mrs. Weasley," Draco said, shaking hands with her again.

"I am glad to help, Mr. Malfoy," Fleur replied modestly, but when Draco started to turn around, she interrupted him as if she just remembered something she forgot:

"Mr. Malfoy, how is she?"

"She is-," Draco paused, thinking what message Ginny would like to send out, "doing fairly well for an Azkaban prisoner."

"Can you tell her that I would visit if I was not pregnant?" Fleur asked, her blue eyes filled with hope.

"Of course, I am sure that she will understand," Draco nodded curtly. "Goodbye." And he walked out of the restaurant.

Fleur remained seated after her 'meeting' with Draco Malfoy ended. She thought that she saw anger in his eyes when she mentioned that Ginny's family was not willing to help, and she mused to herself that there certainly was more to Draco Malfoy then his post-war ex-Death Eater image. She almost believed that she perceived that under the cold bubble he enveloped himself in, he cared about Ginny, and Fleur was pleased by that, even if it was, as she thought, hopeful thinking. Ginny needed someone to care for her now, and if Draco Malfoy was the one, Fleur would give him all the support she could. Her reflection was cut short by the baby stirring in her belly, and Fleur smiled to herself, before she paid and left the restaurant.

She quietly landed, and slipped off her broom at Shell Cottage. She would have much rather apparated, or, even, used the Floo network, but eight months along it was not safe. Depositing her broom in the broom shed, Fleur entered the house where Bill and their three children lived. She was in a good mood after the meeting; it made her feel like she was doing something to help Ginny instead of just sitting around while her sister-in-law was in trouble.

"Hello," she heard someone say behind her sternly, and she turned around to meet her husband's brown eyes.

"Oh, you are home already?" Fleur asked, pleasantly surprised. She thought that he wouldn't be home for hours when she planned the meeting with Mr. Malfoy, but it appeared that she was wrong.

"Yes," Bill said in the same stern voice, but Fleur turning away from him to take off her cloak, did not notice anything.

"I left the kids with Gabrielle. Is she still here?" Fleur inquired, still not sensing the fury vibrating from Bill's very being.

"No, I sent her home."

"The kids?"

"Outside, playing."

"Where were you?" At that point, Bill stood up and moved forward, almost invading Fleur's personal space, and she finally saw the rage in his eyes.

"I had an engagement I had to attend to," Fleur replied evasively, folding her arms over her chest, and looking at Bill with surprise and resentment in regards to his tone of voice.

"What engagement would that be?" Bill raised his eyebrows, hardly in control of his anger any longer.

"I met up with your sister's lawyer," Fleur replied, her irritation matching his own. "What did you think it was, Bill? I am a big girl; I can take care of myself."

"Draco Malfoy?" Bill forgot his anger at the moment, it giving away to a more important emotion: shock. "Fleur, what were you thinking? Are you out of your goddamned mind? He is a Death Eater!"

"This _ex_-Death-Eater," Fleur corrected him coldly, "is your sister's advocate."

Bill gave her a look of disbelief. "Is that what it was all about?" he scoffed.

Fleur gasped in fury, "He is your sister's advocate!"

"I-well…"

"I can't believe that I am the only one in the family that tried to move a finger to help her!" Fleur was obviously enraged out of her usual softness, and Bill, quickly perceiving what such an unusual outburst from his normally sweet wife, meant, looked at her hopelessly as she continued. "She is all alone in that cold cell in Azkaban, and the only person that rushed to her defense was _Draco Malfoy_. Yes, an ex-Death Eater. Don't even try to lecture me about morality, William Weasley; that man has more backbone than all the Weasleys combined!"

"But, Fleur," Bill begun, "You must understand-"

"I do understand!" Fleur raised her voice angrily. "Yet I cannot imagine how can you just sit here when Ginny's been taken away. You don't know why she did what she did, but she needs us now, more than ever. I would visit her myself if I could, but I can't."

"She disgraced us!" Bill said angrily. "What she did to Harry was- was…"

"She is your sister!" Fleur yelled back. "I cannot imagine leaving Gabrielle in a prison even if she tried to kill the savior of the Wizarding World. It doesn't matter what she has done! You all left her when she needed you the most because of some, some stupid war issue! I thought that family ties were more important to the Weasleys!"

"Fleur!" Bill reddened at the insult.

"If I was to stab you, would Gabrielle turn her back on me? I know she wouldn't. Because she cares about me! My well-being matters to her. While there are eight of you and no one tried to help her," Fleur moved her hands expressively as she voiced her opinion. "I will do everything I can to help her."

Bill was speechless, and an awkward silence overtook them as they stood in middle of their kitchen, facing each other, with lobster-coloured faces.

"I am going to bring the children in," Fleur said resolutely, and started to turn around. Bill grabbed her elbow:

"Why were you meeting up with Malfoy?"

Fleur rolled her eyes angrily at him, "Because I will testify on behalf of Ginny Weasley."

* * *

A/N: Thanks for reading! In the next chapter coming up dramatic music Christmas! Luna returns from Australia! Draco visits Ginny in Azkaban! The (hopefully) the last chapter before the trail officially starts! 


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: Longest chapter so far up! I personally did enjoy writing this one, I hope you guys will like it too.

Disclaimer: Belongs to JK... blah

* * *

"Come on, Draco!" Pansy rapped her knuckles on the ebony door that led to Draco's bedroom. "We are going to be late!" 

There was no reply, and so Narcissa decided to join her, "Draco, please dear, do hasten. It is impolite to be late."

"Mother! I should like to think that you want me to look at least _presentable_!" Draco's angry voice was heard from behind the door.

Pansy snorted. "Presentable?" she muttered under her breath.

Narcissa gave her a questioning look, but turned her attention back at her son before long, "Draco Malfoy! Don't you dare to take that tone with me!" she did not yell; Narcissa Malfoy never yelled, she stated her demands- loudly.

"Mother! I am trying to get ready!" Draco, who did yell, yelled back.

"You've been there getting ready for the past three hours!" Pansy joined in the yelling, mostly because yelling at a Malfoy without getting cursed into next week was like getting a free ride on a roller coaster that everyone's been talking about.

"Fine!" Draco practically ripped the door open. "Let's go!"

The three hours he spent alternatively in his dressing room and bathroom left Draco slightly better-looking than before, but the change would be noticed only by the people that knew his visual profile rather well. He was wearing forest-green official robes, and his hair was sleeked back, reminding his companions of the Draco Malfoy from his school years. Narcissa, who took his arm after he exited his room, was wearing a light pink gown that pompously fell down to her ankles, and there it appeared to think highly of itself. With simple gold jewelry, and her hair up in a sophisticated cascade of curls, she met the Malfoy standards right on mark. Pansy, walking on Draco's other side as they entered the Zabini hall where the Christmas party was taking its place, looked ever so elegant in a simple, strapless midnight-blue gown with a wide skirt that matched her dark blue eyes. Her hair, like Narcissa's was up, but in a simple bun rather than anything elaborate.

"The Malfoys," run through the crowd as Blaise rushed forward to meet them. Pansy flashed him a brilliant smile; whilst she was bothered by the fact that the crowd did not bother to register that she was a_Parkinson_, she enjoyed the fame of the Malfoys who were basically her adopted family.

"Great to see you, Draco, Pans," Blaise greeted him, and Pansy noticed that there was something unusual in his expression- could be worry? "Mrs. Malfoy, always a pleasure."

Narcissa nodded and smiled at him, while Draco shook hands with Blaise and Pansy grinned in approval.

Soon after, the three of the Malfoys (one Parkinson included) split apart ant meddled among the guests by themselves as were they all used to. Blaise took introduced them to a few prominent names among which fell the new Minister of Magic, Percy Weasley , or the British Quidditch star Oliver Wood who just ensured Britain the first World Cup in almost a century. They were also introduced to a timid young woman whom Pansy recognized almost instantly as the 'slut that went out with Potter', but her good manners kept her quite polite during the exchange. Narcissa soon had made her way to the 'senior' section of the party where she was greeted by Mrs. Zabini and Augusta Longbottom, who despite everyone's expectation survived the post-war battle that took the place at her house. The Minister seemed busy talking to boring-looking people, and so neither Draco nor Pansy had any interest in talking to him.

Pansy stayed next to Draco for couple of minutes, watching him talk to Cho Chang, who was introduced them as the 'aspiring new biologist', saying herself very little. Realizing that she was making herself look like a big dolt attached to the Malfoy shoulder, she politely joined the conversation intending to excuse herself as soon as possible.

"Oh, HIV," she said, "I was not aware that it presented a problem in the Wizarding society. I have heard that it is quite common in Muggles, but I had no idea that our folks were getting affected."

"Yes," Cho nodded, "the number of wizards and witches suffering from the diseases almost tripled in ten years. The Ministry is truly concerned."

"So what exactly do you do?" Draco asked, obviously oblivious to Pansy's tactics.

"I am part of the team that is working on the cure. I've been assigned to the project only recently, not even a half month ago. The research team sends us all their results, so now, using the Ancora Repelit we have been able to locate the source of the disease, and hopefully we will be able to make some real progress now," Cho said, sipping elf wine from her glass- Pansy could see that she did not thought herself to be an orator, and thus the older woman appeared unsure of herself.

"Well, I am going to try to look for something to cure my thirst. All this disease talk made me dehydrated," Pansy joked lightly, and left Draco to suffer alone in the presence of the 'Ravenclaw slut', as Pansy called the other witch in her head.

She made her way to the bar, making small talk with the people she knew on the way. Pansy was not exactly in the mood to party. She would much rather curl up in front of the big Malfoy fireplace and read a good book. She used to be described as a 'party animal' but lately, more like the last two years, she would avoid big parties, preferring the smaller ones during which she did not risk running into people that bored her.

An hour went by, during which, Pansy went through three Martinis and one shot of vodka, and nothing happened. It was the typical Christmas party- people talked, mingled, chitchatted, and ass-kissed the important people and all in all, nothing happened.

Pansy was on her fourth Martini, when she was interrupted by the barman pouring her another drink. Pansy raised her eyebrows in question.

"The man over there," the barman pointed, to a crowd of people, and Pansy was about to present him with a snarky comment referring to his pointing abilities, when the crowd of women moved apart enough for her to see the tall Quidditch player that was looking straight at her.

Pansy, fighting the urge to blush, nodded in reply, and raised the Martini glass to her lips. He smiled at her lightly, and she responded with reserved smile of her own before turning away.

She had no trouble recognizing the famous face; it was Oliver Wood. International Quidditch player, always surrounded by women wherever he went. Pansy critically followed the group as it moved from under her eyelashes. She would never show actual interest, but she wanted to evaluate the man who was esteemed by man and sent her the drink. Of course, many men tried to make a contact with the cold, blue-eyed witch, but her coldness and sarcasm, more often than not on purpose, drove them away. Pansy was her own witch, and she would be not used by every man that could be bothered to pay for her drink.

Oliver Wood, at twenty-seven, was the walking definition of attractive. He was tall, with square, muscular shoulders, and thick brown hair, cropped short. Pansy could not tell from as far away, but she would bet that he had dark brown eyes, and a square, jagged jaw line. She thought that he was looking at her as well, but from that far away, it was hard to tell. In her consideration of his persona, Pansy felt the old prejudice trying to return to its proper place, and tell her that he was not even worth looking at, since he was a Gryffindor. Pansy chuckled to herself. The Hogwarts House animosity seemed childish and rather silly now, when she was looking back at her school years.

"Hello. I am glad you liked the Martini," a deep, raspy voice said behind her, and Pansy turned to see the subject of her thoughts standing in front of her. When she was thinking about Hogwarts, she temporarily lost her sight of him, and it would appear that he put her distraction to use. She was satisfied that she was right about his eyes; they were dreamy, chocolate, brown…

"Yes, thank you," Pansy nodded gracefully.

"I am Oliver Wood," he stated the obvious, offering his hand. "Care to dance?"

"Sure," Pansy's eyes glittered with amusement as she read from his little act that he had no idea who he was talking to; well, all better for her.

"No name?" he chuckled, "You are possibly the only witch in the whole room who did not make it a point to introduce herself to me."

"I don't think that I am that special," Pansy smirked. "I assume that Augusta Longbottom or Narcissa Malfoy hadn't had the pleasure of running after you themselves."

"No, of course. They were introduced to me by our host himself," Oliver replied, spinning her easily on the dance floor. "So what _is_ your name?"

"A name you would attach no value to," Pansy said mysteriously, as she faced him again.

"Isn't that for me to judge?" he asked, still smiling. "But have it your way, you can be my Incognito Lady."

"Yours?" Pansy chuckled sourly.

"Yes, you shall be my Incognito Lady of tonight," he replied, and Pansy saw that maybe she was not the only one who had one too many Martinis, yet she decided to play along.

"Only for tonight, honey?" she joked with a light chuckle. "I thought we were talking commitment here."

"If my Lady wills it so, it will be commitment," his smile remained plastered upon his face, but his eyes gained the glitter of a personal joke that matched Pansy's, who was wondering if she was the cat or the mouse in this game.

"Shouldn't the Lord be the one who has the final say in it?" Pansy said.

"So I am your Lord?" he caught on quickly.

"For tonight," she grinned at him, her glee shimmering through her.

"Is it so?" his eyes gained a deeper shade of dark chocolate, and there was something new in his expression.

"So it would seem," Pansy evaded a direct answer.

"Oh, really?" he chuckled, grabbing her hand and quickly pulling her after him out of the ballroom and outside in one of the gardens of the mansion.

The coldness of the air surprised them both. It was snowing outside, and snowflakes quickly landed on Pansy's bare shoulders. She chuckled lightly- she wasn't sure what she was doing. She had exactly enough alcohol in her blood to relax and let the snow fall on her as she stretched out her arms. The silliness of the situation made her laugh. It was completely random, and well, silly. She was standing in a snowstorm outside of a party with one of the most-desired wizards in Britain. There would be always time to be gloomy later.

Oliver watched the witch next to him giggle as the snow flakes slowly started covering her hair, braiding the black with white. She was truly beautiful, and he was around plenty of pretty witches.

Pansy opened her eyes to see Oliver looking at her with admiration, and she smiled to herself. Yes, admiration, exactly how she liked it- before the War, that is. Her thoughts of the War were soon forgotten as the Quidditch player slowly leaned forward and pressed his lips on hers. His strong arms pulled her into a hug, and his hands traced up and down her bare back. She returned the gesture, and her slender fingers, tangled in his dark hair, discovered the true thickness of it.

"Want to get out of here?" he muttered into her mouth.

* * *

Eventually, even Draco got bored of Cho Chang. Sure, she was pretty to look at, but what she said was dull and not exactly party talk. And thus, Draco decided to venture in search of a drink, and left the woman to bore someone else. He scanned the crowd for Pansy, but he could not see her anywhere, but before he had time to actually look, his attention was grabbed by a surprisingly blonde head. The woman, with hair so blonde that it almost matched his own, was dancing with Blaise, and Draco could tell that his friend was showing off. Big time. Yet, Draco thought, as he approached, that he caught something else in Blaise's expression, other than pride, as well. It was especially evident when his eyes met his dance partner's. 

When close enough to see their faces, Draco was puzzled. Blaise was dancing with something that appeared to be a tall and lanky Christmas tree. The woman, for Draco assumed that it was a woman under the garlands and glass balls that decorated her dress, was wearing a long pine-green dress decorated exactly like a Christmas tree would be. On her head, resided a big Christmas star. While the attire should have suggested it, Draco didn't want to believe his own eyes- not until the song ended, anyway.

"Luna Lovegood?" Draco said with raised eyebrows when Blaise and his partner walked towards him.

"Oh, hello Mr. Malfoy," the Christmas tree (further on referred to as Luna Lovegood) greeted him in reply. "Nice night isn't it?"

"Luna just returned from Australia." Blaise stated, and his eyes betrayed him.

Draco was not exactly what one would call 'slow'. Especially not when it came to reading people and their actions in social situations- he gave Blaise a knowing smile, hoping that his friend was still Slytherin enough to still understand the meaning.

"I think that we should tell him," he murmured to Luna, who nodded, and Draco followed them into a room that was separated from the ballroom. On his way, Draco caught a glimpse of Pansy talking to someone tall and bulky- too bulky in his opinion, and assured himself that the young woman would be able to take care of herself. Draco sat down in an armchair, while Blaise and Luna were standing by the mantle of the fireplace.

"Well?" Draco said to break the silence that overpowered them for a moment as Blaise tried to find the right words.

"I- well, mate, we've been friends for twenty odd years. You are my best friend," Blaise paused again, "I think that Pansy should be here as well."

"She is busy at the moment," Draco said with a smirk.

Blaise gave him a questioning look, but decided to continue.

"No matter, I-we will talk to her later."

"Yes?" Draco raised his eyebrows in expectation; Blaise was usually much more skilled as an orator.

"You know that I left Daphne last year." From Blaise's flat tone it was obvious that it was not a question but a statement.

Draco nodded.

"I love Diana. She is my daughter, and you as her god-father understand, I presume." Blaise was looking at the fire, nervously playing with his robes.

"Blaise, you are not making sense, mate," Draco said honestly, and Luna tapped her foot. He knew where it was leading to, but wanted the pair to say it.

"I, well, I don't know how to…" Blaise mumbled his eyes meeting Luna's with a plea for help.

"We are married." Luna chipped in, obviously more interested in the fire than in paying attention to what either of them was saying.

"Yes, that." Blaise muttered.

"I assume that no one knows…?" Draco smirked again.

"Well, yes," Blaise replied. "I proposed to Luna last month."

"In Australia?" Draco was quite sure that Australia was the place from which Luna Lovegood owled him about the Potter/Weasley case.

"Yes," Luna said. "I had no idea that Ginny was in trouble until you owled me."

"Owled you?" Blaise seemed to be surprised; obviously, his wife did not keep him updated on her correspondence. There even was an undertone of jealousy in his voice.

"My friend, Ginevra Weasley, has been charged with attempted murder of Harry Potter, and Mr. Malfoy, as her lawyer, wanted me to testify on her behalf," Luna said slowly, looking at Blaise as she pronaunced the words, as if to imply that she was offended by his jealousy.

"Oh," Blaise cleared his throat. "Anyway, what I was trying to convey is this: Luna and I go a long way back. We met each other at zoology meeting once in California, and it was when I was with Daphne. At first we thought that it would be only a one-night thing, but we kept running into each other, and I wanted to break if it off with Daphne." Draco nodded; Blaise was referring to his daughter, Diana, and his ex-wife Daphne Greengrass whom he married soon after the War.

"Why didn't you?" Draco inquired calmly.

"She told me she was pregnant on the same night I was about to tell her about Luna and I. I couldn't leave her, mate. It was my duty to stay with her and Diana." Blaise explained, now that the secret was out he was much calmer.

"Yes, it was the right thing to do at the time," Luna murmured, look intensively at Blaise, with something that Draco though to be pride in her blue eyes.

"Daphne, however, found out that there was something, even though I have not seen Luna since the night that Diana was born. Women, they have an instinct for these things, one day she just asked me if there ever was anything between Luna and I, and I couldn't lie to her anymore. Daphne said that since we are both unhappy in the marriage, we'd get a divorce. We explained everything to Diana last year before the divorce, and after that I returned to Luna. We talked it over, and then, last month we decided to get married. We went on our honeymoon to Australia," Blaise licked his lips nervously, waiting for Draco's response who seemed mildly amused by all that.

"Congratulations," Draco said dryly, holding up his hand with one of his rare smiles. "I figured that you and Daphne would break up eventually, although I did not see this one coming."

"You don't mind, mate?" Blaise asked with honest surprise in his voice.

"Nah. Your life, your choices," Draco replied, and Luna beamed at them.

"You should probably return to your guests," he suggested meekly.

Blaise nodded, blooming with happiness walked towards the door.

"A word, Mr. Malfoy?" Luna peeped. "I would like to talk to you about Ginny." She added for Blaise's benefit.

"Of course," Draco nodded, and Blaise, taking in the appearance of his wife, walked out of the room to give them some privacy.

Draco and Luna seated themselves in two armchairs near the fire, and Draco transfigured a candle into a dictaphone.

"I hope you don't mind, Mrs. Zabini," Draco smirked, and Luna gave him a knowing smile. "Testimony of Luna Lovegood, December 29th."

"Would you say that you are a close friend of Ginevra Weasley?" Draco proceeded to ask the first question.

"We were best friends while in school, but we drifted apart after the War," Luna responded, choosing her words carefully. "My opinions were different than the ones of her husband, and Ginny might or might not have agreed with them, but she did not show it."

"Were you in contact with the couple despite your differences?" Draco continued.

"Yes, Ginny and I remained friends, although we were not often seen in public together."

"What do you think was her reason for stabbing her ex-husband?"

"I thought that she was unhappy," Luna said slowly, and paused before she continued. "The difference in opinions, for I assume that she did not agree with him on variety of issues, was the first 'wet rock'. From there, the gap between them only deepened. Ginny was more open-minded than Harry. And she was under pressure coming from all sides; I think that she just snapped."

"Pressure?"

"Of course," Luna nodded as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "She was the wife of Harry Potter. Everyone expected from her to tolerate him, well, everything. Everyone expected her to be a 'good' wife, to love him, forgive him, to let him overtake her personality. Ginny wasn't like that though. I always thought Ginny to be an independent witch- since the day I knew her."

A thought occurred to Draco who praised himself that he could read between the lines, "Could either of them have a love affair on the side?"

"I doubt it." Luna's reply was prompt. "Harry didn't have the time or moral span to do it, and Ginny did not care enough to spite him like that."

"Do you know of any abuse coming from his side?" Draco asked, bringing them back on topic.

"No. As I said, the only thing that I could blame for this is the 'abyss' that stretched between them. I honestly don't know what could have irked Ginny this much; what pushed her over the edge," Luna was looking behind Draco, clearly lost in thoughts that might or might not have been centered around her friend.

"How would you define the character of Ginny Weasley?"

"Independent. Brave. She is the kind of person who would fight for what she believes in, and she is reckless and noble enough to sacrifice herself in progress. It seems that she has done exactly that this time," the last sentence, as it escaped Luna's lips, was almost inaudible.

"Thank you for your time, Mrs. Zabini," Draco smirked again, and pocketed the dictaphone.

"Any time, Mr. Malfoy," Luna replied, before floating at Draco's arm out of the small room into the ballroom where she was almost immediately taken over by her husband. Draco needed a drink.

* * *

It was 1st of January, and Draco was once again on the morning ferry to Azkaban. He was almost becoming comfortable with the cold, wet air of the sea. He leaned against the railing, and breathed in the cold air that was refreshing if little else. 

After taking to Luna and Blaise Zabini, the story of Ginevra Weasley fell in place like a mosaic. He clearly remembered what the War was like; how she and the others fought against the Dark Lord and his followers. After the War, the restoration was just as rough. Draco imagined that after Potter the Great defeated the Dark Lord, he victoriously returned to his old girlfriend, expecting everything to be like it was before. He has his doubts that Ginny went by 'forgive and forget' and took him back right away, it would be very unlike her- eventually, though, she must have yielded. Whether she was persuaded by her family or friends or Potter himself was lost to Draco, but he assumed that it was a combination of the three. _Harry Potter __loved__ her_, Draco thought sarcastically; _of course there was no other option!_ He recalled a blurry memory of what happened to Hermione Granger in her fourth year when Rita Skeeter published that article about her and Potter's assumed romantic affiliations. If that happened to Hermione who was just friends with Potter what could have happened to Ginny Weasley had she refused him? What would happen to her now if, in the unlikely event, she walked free? Draco did not underestimate mob psychology; they would tear her apart.

Blaise's words rung in Draco's ears: "_I couldn't leave her, mate. It was my duty to stay with her and Diana."_

Draco snorted. Blaise couldn't leave his girlfriend because she was expecting, yet he did not love her. Moreover, he was in love with another woman at the same time. Draco had always assumed as much, and he was not surprised when Blaise and Daphne called the quits almost two years ago.

He assumed that she married Potter for a reason very similar to why Blaise did not leave Daphne. It was not that she loved him. She might have, like Fleur said, loved him at the beginning, but not anymore. It was what everyone expected from her, and she had to oblige. Draco knew how duty felt. He had spent quite sometime in company of this concept and he knew it back to front, horizontally and vertically, even diagonally. He understood the concept better than anyone else. _Duty_. His own name had been forever dirtied because of _duty_. His mother slipped into a state of depression that almost killed her because they had to carry out their _duty_. His father died because of one foolish mistake of his youth, because he promised duty to the wrong side, and Malfoys did not run away from their duties. Now, everyone considered him immoral, even evil, and he knew that they were watching him- waiting for him to slip, to make the mistake that would presumably land him in Azkaban for good.. Draco could relate to Ginny's deposition better than others; he's had the taste of duty first hand. He knew exactly how it felt to do something one did not want, but had to anyway, because it was expected, because it was needed, required. She simply snapped. Something that he could not blame her for; he saw his own Mother attack and hurl curse after curse on his aunt Bellatrix who brought the tedious duty upon their family through her insanity. Yes, he could definitely relate to the case of Ginevra Molly Weasley.

The ferry hit the shore, and Draco once again submitted the Weasley fake wand at the security desk. He inwardly snorted, if this was their security like during the war, it was no wander that Bella escaped. He was only surprised that she waited so long before breaking free.

"Hello, Malfoy," Ginny's bright voice greeted him as he entered the cell. She seemed more relaxed, as much as one could be in Azkaban, than before.

"Ms. Weasley," he replied politely, setting down his briefcase.

"The trial is tomorrow," Draco said, not quite sure how treat her.

"Yes, I know," Ginny stated cheerily.

"What are you going to testify to?" Draco asked slowly, looking for a sign of insanity in her eyes, and again, found none.

"I shall say that it was an outburst of bottled up emotions and formally apologize," Ginny replied calmly.

Progress. From declaring herself guilty they progressed into claiming innocence.

"I talked to Fleur Weasley and Luna Z-Lovegood," Draco said.

"Yes, I know," Ginny nodded again. "My brother Bill stopped by two days ago. I am quite surprised that you did not work during the holidays. I would expect something more diligent from a Malfoy."She added with a grin that could almost be described as teasing or playful.

"I was busy," Draco replied evasively; his thoughts would not pursue the meaning of that smile- or the beauty of it.

"Of course," Ginny gave him a knowing smile.

"They will testify on your behalf," Draco added after a while, avoiding any thought concerning his client that could be carried out if they were in different positions.

Ginny nodded, and Draco was almost certain that he saw the kiss of satisfaction on her face. Could it be that she was surprised? That she did not expect her friends to help her? Again, he felt a pang of pity but the much stronger feeling of admiration soon overpowered it.

"You are wearing the same robes as last time. That is very uncharacteristic for a Malfoy," she commented, her brown eyes flying over his tall form. "I would not assume that you lost all your wealth during the War."

Draco, feeling sort of uncomfortable, hid his hands in his pockets. His fingers touched upon something cold, and brown wrapping paper revealed a silver bracelet with a small diamond triangle embedded in it.

"That's a very nice bracelet," he heard from his client. " I am sure that the lady who you bought it for will like it."

"Actually," Draco made his decision within seconds- or maybe it was not even a decision, maybe he planned it all along, "it's for you."

"Me?" Ginny repeated with a genuine surprise.

"Yes," Draco felt a sudden need to explain it. "I went to buy Christmas presents for Mother and a friend, and I thought of you. Here," he quickly placed it on her wrist, "it's yours."

Ginny's eyes told it all; she had not expected anything like this. Draco was clear on how he felt about the slim woman whose wrist was so paper-like when he touched it; somehow he did not pity her. He admired her instead. Many in her place would break down and cried, or show some sort of enhanced emotion when given a Christmas present from their former enemy in such a bad situation, but not Ginny. She was so much stronger than anyone whom he knew; so much more noble, and he could not help himself but praise her for it. He found himself wondering why in the world such a noble intelligent and strong being would break down and stab Harry freaking Potter. She must have known better! He had to win this case; it was his responsibility that her soul would not be sucked out by a dementor.

"Wow, Malfoy, thanks," she muttered, looking at him from under her long eyelashes.

"Don't mention it," Draco replied, finding his shoes suddenly very interesting. "So, tomorrow, we must be the victors."

"Yes, we do," Ginny said, flashing him a smile. "And we will, I have not done anything major."

Draco chose not to reply. He did not want to rob her of the little bit of hope that she had left.

* * *

I know that I need a SPaG beta, but since I do not have one, do try to understand. The end (especially the D/G in the cell part) did not fully meet my standards, and I promise to edit it tomorrow (possibly?), but once again, I consider updating more important than not updating. In the next chapter: the actual trail! I have not decided whether it is going to be a short trial or a long one, but we'll see. Thanks for reading! 


	8. Chapter 8

A/N: Yay! The trial!

Disclaimer: belongs to JKR...

* * *

Luna and Blaise Zabini were sound asleep. It was around three o'clock in the morning, and after retiring from their earlier 'activities' that night, they both were quite tired, enjoying the rest sleep provided. The house was quiet. It was the perfect picture of peace and tranquility. The big, grandfather clock muttered to itself in sleep, refusing to wake up to inform anyone near that it was, in fact, three o'clock. Blaise turned in his sleep, wrapping his arm around Luna's naked form. She mumbled something sleepily, and cuddled closer to him. The waxing crescent that shun into the room was not very bright, and the sleepers were obtaining their deserved rest without any disturbance. 

Almost without any disturbance. The fire in the marble fireplace was slowly dying out when it started glowing with more and more strength, turning a poisonous shade of green in process. A spark left the fireplace, and flew around the room forming a green snake behind it. At this point, Blaise shot upright, grabbing his wand to fight whoever dared to disturb them like this. Luna, awaken by his sudden motions, sat up too, and watched with widened eyes as the 'snake' made its way in front of their bed. There, it opened its mouth, baring smoke-like fangs and spoke:

"To Mr. and Mrs. Zabini. _To save a friend hasten now you must, to do not betray their trust_."

The snake disappeared, living behind a trace of silver smoke. Luna gave Blaise a questioning look, but he was already out of the bed, getting dressed. She followed the same pattern, and quickly put on a robe.

"Where are we going?" she asked, matter-of-factly, as they both fastened their cloaks and she grabbed her wand from the bedside table.

"Draco." Blaise replied simply, and taking Luna's hand, he disapparated them both.

* * *

Outside the Azkaban prison, the sun was raising, almost mockingly bringing about new day with a golden touch of hope. It looked like January 2nd would be a cold, yet sunny day- the kind that one would spend outside throwing bewitched snowballs at his or her friends. It was the same sun that Harry Potter saw when he awoke that morning, the sun that kissed the forehead of Draco Malfoy who did not get any sleep that night and the same golden globe that Ginny Weasley was watching from behind the bars of her cell. 

Her chin was resting on her folded arms, her matted red hair falling around her face without their usual glow and her bright brown eyes gazing tiredly at the world around her. There was a touch of infinite sadness on her features, yet, with the sun slowly rising and bringing golden highlights through her dirty hair and warming her porcelain face, it felt like her soul was returning to her body.

She awoke early that morning, long before the sun made its entrance, but not because she did not want to miss the sunrise, but rather because the next day was too crucial in her life for her to sleep any of it away. Her mind fluttered back to the case; and she shuddered involuntarily. Ginny was realistic enough to see that her case was a bad one. It was of no importance of who her lawyer was, she knew there was not any way she could be punished by something else than death. Even if Draco Malfoy could free her from a formal punishment, she would not escape her deed, for there was no means of escaping: she stabbed _Harry Potter_.

Her lips curled into a vicious smile- only if they knew! Well, if they cannot see it themselves, she is not the one who is going to point it out for them. Even though the diary incident happened good ten years ago, the scar it left was deep and she knew better than to trust anyone. After falling into Lord Voldemort's trap in her first year Ginny understood human nature a lot better. They noticed her when they needed her or when there was no one around, and she had no reason to believe that it would ever change. It didn't. Of course, Ginny tried her hardest to get the attention of amazing Harry Potter, at a cost that was greater than the gain, but when she realized that it was too late and they were married. She learned her lesson the hard way, and she was determined to stick with it. She would bare her soul to no one and definitely not to the wizarding public by making any sort of a proclamation to justify what she had done.

The sun was out, and Ginny felt as if she was reborn. She squared her shoulders and raised her chin in silent defiance of her fate. Yes, she stabbed Harry Potter, and she wished he had died. Was that a sin? Probably. But the reasons that led her to make that decision were undeniable. It was not only the negligence that Harry showed her throughout the marriage, there was a deeper underlying concept too. She thought it her duty at the time to rid the society of Harry Potter and his evil influence, but since she had failed all the remains of her hope for humanity disappeared. Fate was not just, and Ginny, like she learned many years ago, was just another pawn on the big chessboard of the universe. Now, she tried to fight it, and again everything was against her. Ginny took odd comfort in that. She knew that her doing would result possibly in death or having her soul sucked out of her body by a dementor, but that little speck of defiance was worth it. She did not betray herself. She did not submit to something she did not believe. She did what she thought was right. She resisted her fate and made her own fortune. For one moment in her life she felt like she was the one that controlled her fate. Yes, Ginny was responsible for one of the only true freedoms one could ever experience, and that was worth everything, even the punishment of death.

She rose from her place by the window, and walked over the cot where a plain white dress was lain out. Ginny was calm. Calmer than she's ever been in her life, she conquered her fears, battled her devils like she had that many years in the Chamber of Secrets, and she felt truly free. In the Chamber of Secrets, the basilisk laid dead. She tried to stab Harry Potter, and though she failed to take his life, her resistance might be remembered. She felt power of her own personality surge through her. Yes, she was not afraid, and if they all hated her, then let them. She would go down in style- not because she wanted to show them that she was better than them, but rather that she was not afraid of their hard judgment and that it did not matter to her.

Her thoughts returned to her family whom she was sure would be present at her trial. Ginny was not delusional enough to think that they would be there for her, well, Bill maybe, but the rest of them, they would be there to support Hermione and Harry. When she was arrested, she expected at least one of them to come to Azkaban and demand an explanation at the very least. But no one came. At first, Ginny was angry, mad, pissed-off- how could they leave her like that? Later even that feeling disappeared. She loved them, and she would die for any of them, and so she could not be mad at them. They made their choice and she could forgive them, although their hypocrisy was unforgettable. Fleur, of all people, was the best one of them. Ginny felt a wave of melancholy coming with the thought of her sister in law, for she never liked Fleur but she was touched by her actions. She will probably never have a chance to thank her for her bravery… Ginny shook her hand quickly to stop that sort of thoughts. She had to be strong today. They could and would not break her.

There was no mirror, and so she could not even see whether her objective of looking presentable was met or not. She did her best to clean out her hair and since there was no brush, she ran her fingers through it a few times. Her dress was simple, a square decollate collar opened between her shoulders that, as her whole body, showed the quality of Azkaban food. The dress reached down to her ankles, and the sleeves covered her arms with a cheap, cotton-like material. The only jewelry she wore, although whether she could wear it or not was questionable, was the bracelet Draco Malfoy had given her last night. Her fingers lightly traced the cold metal. It was a token of something very personal, of something very intimate that happened between them during his infrequent visits to Azkaban.

Suddenly, Ginny's thoughts focused on the day Tom came out from the diary, and Ginny breathed heavily as if fighting something. She forced herself to think of the happy times, like when she pulled a prank on Hermione with Fred and George. The door on her cell opened, and she knew it was time to go.

* * *

Her small feet touched the ground in Britain, with the dementors gliding around her. She immediately saw why there had to be dementors guarding her, the masses of people that were waiting for her moved away from the darkness and destruction the evil creatures represented and they could walk through. She saw people holding up signs that said mean things like 'Weasley Whore' or 'Go join Death Eaters!' or 'Death for G.W.'. Ironically, had she been not guarded by the embodied evil, the crowd of Harry Potter supporters would tear her apart. Ginny was uncertain on how they made it through the gathered wizards and witches into the courthouse (they had to build a temporary ministry building as the trail of Ginny Weasley was to be a public event and there were so many people attending that the Wizengamot underground room would simply not be big enough). Once inside, the room resembled the old The Wizengamot. It was a round room, and there were seats going up from the middle although there were two tables on each side and a seat that was higher up in the air than all the others. Also, there was a row blue seats that indicated where the Wizengamot members would sit. At one of the tables sat Draco Malfoy by himself and at the second stood Hermione Granger busily talking to Minerva McGonagall who was invited to be the judge in this trial. 

The guards directed Ginny towards the desk behind which Draco Malfoy sat. On the way, she noticed many familiar faces looking at her; there was Luna with Blaise Zabini sitting next to her, Bill and pregnant Fleur, all the Weasleys except for her father which surprised Ginny when even her ancient aunt Muriel was there holding a protective arm around her mother who was silently weeping at her daughter's misfortune. There was almost anyone whom she ever talked to seen, there were both the war veterans with Neville Longbottom and Hannah Abbot and the ex-Death Eaters like Pansy Parkinson and Narcissa Malfoy that were obviously there to support Draco.

Ginny sat down next to Draco and after making an Unbreakable Vow that she would not try to escape from the court room, the guard moved to stand by the door. Draco next to her was fumbling through his papers, as he was trying to find something and Ginny was watching him from the corners or her eyes. Despite the situation she was in, she could not help but admire how completely stunning Draco looked. He looked worn out with dark circles under his eyes as if he had not slept at night, but his hair was neatly combed back and his face was serious as he marked the paper he was looking for.

Ginny's mind spun back to the day when he entered her dark cell. His hair was messy after being made a play of by the northern wind, and his eyes were cold. Yet, after days spent in solitude during which her only company were dementors, he was like an apparation of an angel to her. Truly, she could not recognize him at first. His hair was longer than she remembered him having at school. He was also taller, and while still lean, he was not completely skinny, but rather tall and muscular. He seemed troubled, but with his light hair almost glowing in the cell, Ginny thought him handsome and most definitely attractive at some level.

Her enthusiasm about her 'dreamed' angel was temporarily dissolved when he told her his name, but she soon had forgotten that as well. Just like her, he did not pick his fortune, and he had to deal with what served on his plate by the choices of his father. In that sense, she could relate to him, and at one point during those long sleepless nights she spent on her cot thinking about her life and whoever was in it, she realized that Draco Malfoy, during those brief visits that connected her to the world, was more than anyone ever thought him to be, and she loved him for it. There was no other way of explaining her feelings towards her advocate, and though he was a Malfoy and though he was a supposed ex-Death Eater, he was also the only person that did not hate her, and that created a natural bond between them.

Draco finally looked up and their eyes met for a split second, his troubled grey slates with Ginny's burning brown ones. But before either of them had time to implicate anything more than a glance, they were interrupted by the stern voice of Minerva McGonagall:

"This court is now in session."

Hermione Granger-Weasley, who, as Ginny thought, aged more and more with every passing day, stood up, and moved in front of The Wizengamot to make his opening statement.

"Good morning," she greeted them, clearing her throat. "This case, as I am sure you all are familiar with, concerns a bestial and evil act committed by Ginevra Molly Weasley to injure Harry James Potter. As the prosecution shall prove using clear evidence and most definite logical conclusions, Ginevra attempted to stab her loving husband out of spite and unjustifiable hate. Although the evidence pointing in this direction is crystal, it is up to the honorable members of The Wizengamot to decide the curse in which justice should run," Hermione finished and returned to her desk, satisfaction playing on her face.

It was Draco's turn.

"Honorable The Wizengamot members," he begun, "you shall be the judges of one of the most remarkable and perplexing cases that our judicial system had ever faced. The defense's case should try to venture deep into human psyche in order to find and prove the reason for Ginevra Weasley's actions. No crime is committed without a cause, and whether the cause was justified or not, is up to you to judge," Draco returned and sat down next to Ginny, taking a sip from a glass that was filled with water.

"The prosecution calls its first witness," Hermione stated, and Ron Weasley slowly made his way to the stand.

"What is your relationship to Ms. Weasley, Mr. Weasley?" Hermione asked, coming forward to face her husband.

"She is my sister," Ron stated clearly.

"Could you tell us about what happened after you entered the Potter's residence on November 28th?" Hermione continued, half facing Ron and half facing the Wizengamot as she proceeded with her questions.

"I apparated in to see Harry Potter on the floor in a puddle of blood. Ginevra was holding a knife that was later identified as the assault weapon by the Auror division at the Ministry. I asked her what happened, and if she stabbed him and she nodded and said yes in this very weird voice." Ron finished, looking straight at Ginny.

"What do you mean by 'weird voice'?" Hermione tried to clarify.

"As if she was possessed, but I don't think she was," Ron replied calmly.

"Ah, of course," Hermione nodded as if this was the first time she's heard such a theory. She turned to The Wizengamot and said: "This shall be addressed in due time."

"Would you say that you are familiar with the relationship between Mr. Potter and Ms. Weasley?" Hermione continued her inquiries, turning back to Ron.

"Yes. I am Harry's best mate and I am Ginny's brother. We all knew that they had a harmonious marriage," Ron replied.

"Do you know of anything that might, according to your judgment, lead to this cruel act of attempted murder committed by Ginevra Weasley?"

"No, they had a harmonious marriage. They never fought and they were both happy. What my sister, I mean, Ms. Weasley did was because she wanted to and because she wants attenti-"

"Objection!" Draco rose from his seat. "The witness' opinion is irrelevant."

Minerva McGonagall nodded, "Yes, Mr. Weasley, please let's not jump to conclusions. This court is interested in facts only."

"My apologies, your honor," Ron said quickly, and Hermione seemed to be restraining an urge to shake her head disapprovingly.

"So you are saying that to your knowledge, Ms. Weasley and Mr. Potter had a harmonious marriage with no abuse coming from his side, and hence she had no reason to attack him?" Hermione summed up Ron's testimony in one sentence.

"Yes," Ron answered, and Hermione nodded to McGonagall as to show that she was done with the witness.

"Mr. Malfoy?" McGonagall raised her eyebrows in the direction of the defendant's table. "Would you like to cross-examine the witness?"

"Yes. Thank you, your honor," Draco rose and slowly made his way to the witness stand.

"Mr. Weasley, is there any evidence apart from the fact that you saw Ms. Weasley holding the knife that points in the direction that she has committed this assault?" Draco asked.

Ron took his time to think over the question, but then he finally said: "N-no. The auror squad tried to examine her memories, but she would not let us."

"How is that possible?" Draco inquired. "I don't think that Ms. Weas-"

"She is an experienced Occlumens," Ron blurted out.

"Has, to your knowledge, Ms. Weasley ever practiced Occlumency?" Draco asked, a slight smirk playing on his lips.

"No…" Ron admitted.

"Objection, your honor!" Hermione called. "Ms. Weasley's being or not being an Occlumens is of no relevance to the case."

"Mr. Malfoy?" McGonagall said.

"Sorry, your honor," Draco apologized quickly. "So, regardless of whether Ginevra Weasley is an Occlumens or not, you have no other evidence that it was her who stabbed Mr. Potter?"

"We have Mr. Potter's testimony," Ron stated calmly, and the whole courtroom was overtaken by silence.

"Of course," Draco nodded, as if it was exactly what he expected from Ron. "And there is no chance that it was someone on a Polyjuice or that something possessed Ms. Weasley?"

"No, we examined her for any evil spirits and Polyjuice would have worn off by now," Ron said in a strong voice.

"Of course," Draco nodded again. "In your first testimony, you said that you were a close friend of Mr. Potter."

"Yes," Ron agreed.

"Can a man say that he knows his friend, even his sister as well as himself? And can he be right in such a statement?" Draco turned around to face Ron, and the intensity of his grey eyes almost burning through the other man. "Is it not possible that there was something between Mr. Potter and Ms. Weasley that you as a close friend might have missed? Maybe some little reason that could have irked Ms. Weasley to do this?"

"I am Harry Potter's best mate," Ron raised his voice in defense. "He spent almost every minute of his life with me! Of course I am sure that there was no abuse or dispute between them!"

"Are you sure that you are in a position to make such a statement? Is it not possible that you might have been mistake; that you might have misjudged their relationship?"

"No!" Ron yelled defensively. "Harry loved her! He would have died for her! He risked his life for her on many occasions."

Draco turned away from Ron Weasley who was growing redder and redder with every minute that passed. "Honorable members of The Wizengamot, my argument is simple: people often misjudged the ones that are close to them. Could this not happen to Ronald Weasley as well? I ask you to keep this in mind when you deliberate on the punishment of my client."

Draco raised his palms as to show that he was done with his defense and returned to sit down next to Ginny.

"It would have been a lot easier if you were possessed," he muttered to her, almost playfully.

Ginny gave him a light smile in return. Well, he was not despairing and that had to be a good sign.

"The prosecution calls its second witness, Harry James Potter, if you please," Hermione motioned to Ginny's ex-husband, paying close attention to avoid Ginny's eyes, took his place at the witness stand.

"Could you describe the events that happened on November 27th after you returned from work and arrived home?" Hermione began, half-facing the Wizengamot and half-facing Harry.

"I apparated home, and my ex-wife, Ginevra Weasley, came at me with a knife. She stabbed me, but, thankfully, she missed all the important organs. I was bleeding, so I lost consciousness and I remember waking up at St. Mungo's with my friend, Ron Weasley, asking me what's in the world happened." Harry stated calmly, still avoiding the defense table.

"Can you think of any reason that might have led her to stab you? A fight or a dispute, maybe? Something that happened earlier that day?" Hermione suggested.

"No," Harry said. "I loved my wife. We had a happy marriage."

"No more questions," Hermione said with her satisfaction with how the case was going clear in her voice.

Draco rose to question Hermione Granger-Weasley's second witness:

"Mr. Potter, were you ever abusive to Ms. Weasley?" Draco asked, and the courtroom came to life with hurried whispers.

"Of course not!" Harry said angrily. "We had a happy marriage. We did not fight, and we loved each other!"

"That is of no relevance, Mr. Potter," Draco said quietly. "On daily bases, how much time would you say that you spent with your wife? Let's not count the nights in this, shall we?"

"I…" Harry seemed to be taken by surprise. "I spent time with her."

"How much time, Mr. Potter?" Draco persisted.

"I don't know," Harry replied evasively. "I spent time with her after work and so on. I don't know exactly how much- I mean; I didn't take notes or something."

"So, you don't know if you spent any time with her?" Draco implied, and Harry turned a nice shade of magenta.

"Of course I spent time with her!" Harry yelled. "She is my wife!"

"Can you name a day before November 27th when you two, say, went out and dined or went somewhere just to be together?" Draco asked in a calm voice.

"I-well, we went to this Ministry thing together…" Harry replied slowly.

"I presume that you weren't alone at the 'ministry thing'?" Draco raised his eyebrows and Harry, forced by the Veritaserum nodded.

"Ah, so you cannot name one time you and your wife took some time just to yourselves in the past six years," Draco concluded, and Harry, despite his greatest efforts, nodded again.

"Mr. Potter seems to have neglected his marriage," Draco turned to the Wizengamot, "Ginevra Weasley cannot be blamed for snapping after six years of being overlooked and forgotten by her husband. I don't think that any of us here would react calmly if his or her partner never spent time with them, or only spent time with them on occasions that they had to spend time together."

The courtroom came alive with whispers again. Draco looked around himself, smirking in approval, if he could get them to doubt, that would be an achievement. The evidence was straight-forward, and Draco was smart enough to know that, but he must try to win. He must.

Harry was foaming with rage, but he could not do anything in those circumstances.

"No more questions," Draco rejoined Ginny at the defense table, and took another drink of water.

"Our next witness shall be Pansy Parkinson," Hermione Granger-Weasley stated rising from her seat with victory ringing in her voice.

Ginny shoot Draco a worried look, but saw him calmly looking at Pansy. No, there is no way he could have expected that. The latter made her way to the witness stand, and Hermione started her questioning.

"You are a qualified head-healer, Ms. Parkinson, aren't you?" Hermione said, her brown eyes growing cold when they met Pansy's dark blue. "Can you tell us about where you obtained your degree?"

"Yes, I was qualified by the Ministry about four years ago," Pansy answered. "I am a free-lance practitioner, which basically means that if someone needs my help, they owl me."

"Ah, so it seems you are qualified enough to give us a psychological evaluation of Ginevra Molly Weasley." Hermione was pointedly looking away from Pansy, facing the Wizengamot.

"Mrs. Granger-Weasley," McGonagall jumped in again. "I don't think that Ms. Parkinson is in the position to evaluate Ms. Weasley. She has not written a formal report."

"On the contrary, your honor," Hermione swiftly turned around to face McGonagall. "Mr. Malfoy had Ms. Weasley psychologically evaluated as almost the first thing he did. Ms. Parkinson was the head-healer that did it."

"Ah, continue then, please," McGonagall nodded as another wave of murmurs shot through the crowd.

"Ms. Parkinson?" Hermione raised her eyebrows, looking expectedly at Pansy Parkinson.

"Ginevra Molly Weasley is sane," Pansy said slowly, giving Draco an apologetic glance. "She fully realizes the consequences of her actions. Yet, as a head-healer, I would say that there was something in her relationship with Mr. Potter, that she found…_disappointing_."

"But, as you said, she is in control of her actions?" Hermione was stubbornly making her point through Pansy, who nodded in reply.

Hermione nodded to McGonagall, sat down next to her assistant, and Draco Malfoy arose for the cross-examination.

"You said that Ginny Weasley thought her relationship with Mr. Potter to be 'disappointing'. Can you be more specific about that?" Draco asked.

"From my judgment as a head-healer, I think that Ginevra Weasley was neglected by her husband, who slowly took over most of her friends and family, leaving her out from the circle of people that she loved the most. And so she could not take it anymore and projected all the hate she was feeling onto her husband and stabbed him," Pansy said.

"Is that a professional statement or personal opinion, Ms. Parkinson?" McGonagall leaned forward to ask Pansy that question.

"Professional statement, your honor," Pansy replied. "Every action causes a reaction. Ginevra Weasley had to be moved by something if she stabbed her husband; and since they 'never fought', logically it had to be because he was neglecting her, as I stated earlier."

"No more questions," Draco rejoined Ginny at the defense table.

Hermione arose again and called another head-healer who confirmed that Ginny was sane, and, when questioned by Draco, that Ginny's action could have been a result of chronic negligence of their relationship coming from Harry.

"The prosecution calls Mrs. Molly Weasley."

Ginny kept her composure throughout the trial, watching as her once-best friend accused her, as her brother voiced his suspicions in a strong voice and how her ex-husband openly declared that it was all her fault, but when Hermione called her mother to the stand, even long-years of practiced self-control when she was living with Harry, Ginny could not keep herself from gaping. Molly, sobbing into a handkerchief, and carrying a bag on her shoulder, took her place at the witness stand, briefly glancing at Ginny and breaking into more sobs. Ginny forced herself to close her mouth, and Draco gave her a wary look. No, she did not break down, and did her best to stay unemotional, but it was obvious that she was shaken from her ice-statue attitude that she was putting on until now.

"Mrs. Weasley," Hermione addressed her mother-in-law, "Are you aware of any disputes between your daughter, Ginevra Weasley and my client, Harry Potter?"

"N-no," Molly sobbed. "They were always perfect together. And he treated her so nicely too."

"So, to your knowledge, she had no motif to hurt Mr. Potter in any way?" Hermione continued, ignoring Molly's weeping.

"She- oh, I don't know, Hermione!" Molly exclaimed, dabbing at her eyes with the handkerchief.

"Mrs. Weasley, this is important."

"I don't know! I don't know!" Molly continued hysterically, and Ginny made a motion as it to stand up and run up to her mother, but she remained seated next to Draco, who gazed at her with wonder.

"Hurting Harry was unjustified, wasn't it? Wasn't it?" Hermione raised her voice, angry that the witness was not cooperating.

"Mrs. Granger-Weasley!" McGonagall raised her voice too.

"I am sorry, your honor," Hermione said, her eyes blazing. "No more questions."

"Mr. Malfoy?" McGonagall said.

"Of course," Draco stood up and proceeded to his first question: "Mrs. Weasley, would you say that your daughter was happy in the marriage?"

"I don't know," Molly said, calming down a little. "She would tell me if she was unhappy. We could have worked out as a family! Ginny-" she raised her arms towards Ginny, who looked on with her pain displayed in her brown eyes that matched her mothers.

"Mrs. Weasley, no more questions. I suggest you go home and try to calm down," Draco said dryly, feeling sorry for the woman, but having no acceptable way of expressing it.

"The prosecution has no more witness to present at this time," Hermione stated as Molly was led out of the courtroom by Charlie, who threw Harry an understanding look and avoided looking at Ginny.

"The Court will take an hour lunch recess," McGonagall said.

* * *

Ginny was taken away by aurors and Draco followed her as the courtroom emptied. They ate their lunch in the anteroom adjoined to the courtroom, with a few aurors standing outside, as if they were afraid that Ginny may try to escape. 

"It does not look good," Draco repeated for the thousandth time, pacing the cheap carpet.

Ginny took her time to swallow the crappy court food that was still better than the prison food before she replied: "Yes, I know."

"Well, I don't know how to solve it!" Draco exclaimed, punching the wall. "They can't take you away!"

"They can, and they will," Ginny answered. "Don't get your panties in a bunch Malfoy, I am just another case, and down the road you won't even remember this."

"I don't think that there will be a wizard or a witch that won't remember you or this case," Draco glared at her.

"Let's face it, I'll be lucky if I get life-time imprisonment and not the kiss," Ginny said again, and Draco, again, punched the wall.

"Malfoys never lose."

It was so characteristic of him to say something like that, that Ginny almost chuckled. Almost.

"This is going to be your first time, then," she said. "You'll get used to it."

"Malfoys don't lose," Draco repeated angrily. "Besides, shouldn't _you_ be worried?"

"Look, Malfoy," Ginny touched a napkin to her lips, "we are all gonna die, some sooner, some later. I don't fear death. Hell, I haven't felt that kind of fear since I was ten. I am not worried about myself, but if I must, I'd be worried about them, and what they are doing."

"Weasley, this is no time for martyrdom," Draco's grey eyes met Ginny's brown ones as he raised his head, and the atmosphere in the room was filled with invisible vibes going between them.

"Please, Malfoy," Ginny scoffed, "I am not a martyr. I am simply ready to die for a failed attempt. Don't tell me _you _agree with what they are doing…"

"I don't." The words slipped Draco's lips, and Ginny just stared at him.

"But what you did was reckless! It was not worth it." Draco said after a moment of silence passed between them.

"It was worth every moment of it and more," Ginny said, taking care to pronounce each word carefully. "You can't understand. You just cowardly lay down and played dead, and I fought it. No," she continued as if to herself, "you cannot understand."

"Don't call me a coward, Weasley!" Draco said angrily, "You don't know what I've been through!"

"Is everything alright?" An auror in a tall wizard hat opened the door and gazed at them questioningly.

"Yes, of course," Draco stood up, and walked to the window, avoiding to look at Ginny or the auror.

"Alright then," the auror nodded. "You have another ten minutes."

"Look, I am sorry, Malfoy," Ginny tried to pacify him. "I did not mean to yell, but as you once put it, this is neither time nor the place."

"Whatever, Weasley," Draco sulked a little but turned around to face her. "You are right, I am a coward. The coward that took this hopeless case, when no one else would, and worked my arse off trying to free you. Yea, such a coward."

"Fine, go and pity yourself," Ginny replied in see-if-I-care tone of voice. "It all shall be over within hours." She added with a sigh.

Her last statement seemed to bring him back from the Mope-a-land he took a refuge for the time being.

"I wish you hadn't stabbed him," Draco now muttered in a much more reconciliatory manner.

Ginny chose not to reply.

* * *

"The defense calls its first witness. Ms. Luna Lovegood if you please?" Draco said as Luna made her way to the witness stand. 

"How long have you known Ms. Weasley?" Draco asked when Luna seated herself.

"About ten years, or so," Luna replied.

"Would you say you are a close friend of hers?"

"Yes, we were good friends at school, although we kind of drifted apart after she married Harry," Luna said, looking at Ginny and smiling lightly as if she knew a secret that no one else did.

"Why do you think that is?" Draco continued.

"I am not sure. I think that she kind of closed herself to everyone, all her family and friends. I think that it's because everyone was so centered on Harry and so they, her friends and family, overlooked her." Luna said.

"Were there any major disagreements between them?" Draco asked.

"Not on the surface," Luna responded immediately. "They appeared as a happy couple, but there was this look on her face, sometimes, that indicated that she was not perfectly pleased, but as I said, there was nothing that would be obvious to a casual on-looker."

"Thank you, Ms. Lovegood," Draco said, fighting the urge to call her by her marital name.

"Does the prosecution care to cross-examine?" McGonagall asked.

"Just one question, your honor," Hermione said, half-standing up, "Ms. Lovegood, under what authority do you analyze the marriage of Mr. Potter and Ms. Weasley?"

"I am her friend, Mrs. Granger-Weasley," Luna replied, giving her one of the famous 'Luna' looks that no one was quite sure what meant.

Hermione turned to the Wizengamot now, "Ah, and if that makes Ms. Luna Lovegood an authorized marriage evaluator in the eyes of our Wizengamot members, then, there is nothing else for me to say."

"Mr. Malfoy, your second witness," McGonagall said as Fleur, heavily pregnant, moved forward to give her testimony.

"Mrs. Weasley," Draco begun, "would you say you are an 'insider' when it comes to judging Mr. Potter and Ms. Weasley's relationship?"

"Yes; Ginny is my sister in law and Harry, as her husband, is my husband's brother in law. We were on friendly bases," Fleur replied.

"I don't assume that you are aware of any disputes between them…?" Draco paused briefly and Fleur shook her head, before he continued, "How would you describe their relationship?"

"They seemed happy. I mean, there were times when Ginny appeared sad for no apparent reason, usually when Harry went somewhere with Ron and Hermione, but other than that, they did not fight and they had in general a happy marriage." Fleur said, and then added, "If there was anything, we, the family, didn't know about it. Ginny kept to herself for most of her marriage, and I doubt that she confined to anyone."

"Would you say, as Ms. Weasley's friend, that her ex-husband showed negligence in their relationship?" Draco inquired.

"Yes," Fleur thought for a second before finishing that sentence, "Harry was always busy, and Ginny often stayed home alone. I don't think that she minded at first, but apart from family events, I seldom saw them doing anything together."

"That is all, your honor, Mrs. Weasley," Draco nodded and returned to his seat.

"No questions, your honor," Hermione said in a manner that clearly showed that she was above questioning such a weak defense.

"The defense calls Ms. Ginevra Weasley." Draco said.

Needless to say, the courtroom erupted with whispers and even shouts as Ginny slowly stood up and took her place at the witness stand. Hermione gapped at Draco, but soon enough, she regained her composure. Harry threw Ginny a fierce glare, while holding back Ron who wanted to object regardless of what his status was.

"Ms. Weasley," Draco addressed her. "Could you describe what happened after your ex-husband, Mr. Potter, apparated home on Nov. 27th?"

"I stabbed him," Ginny said, taking her time to savor her words.

"Why would you do that?" Draco inquired.

"After six years of being neglected by him, I felt like it was time for me to act. I realize that my action was unprovoked, and that our marriage could have been resolved in another way, and I apologize for my rushed impulse. I simply could not take it anymore." Ginny said, searching for Molly's face in the crowd.

"Can you describe your marriage in more detail?" Draco asked.

"Of course, Mr. Malfoy," Ginny nodded, giving him a slight smile. "Harry was always busy with his work and with my brother and his wife. It was not like he completely forgot about me, but his mind was too busy to pay much needed attention to preserving our marriage. It felt empty, cold and unfulfilled."

"That is all, your honor," Draco said and returned to the defense table.

"Ms. Weasley," Hermione begun, immediately using the opportunity to question her, "You said that you could have solved the situation in a more peaceful way. Why didn't you?"

"As I said, I acted on an impulse," Ginny said, meeting Hermione's question with a silent tenacity.

"Yet, you fully realize that what you did was wrong and that there were other ways of expressing your dislikes?" Hermione continued tiredly and without enthusiasm, as she was sure that she'd win this case.

"Yes," Ginny agreed.

"Your honor," Hermione nodded, and Ginny stepped down from the witness stand.

"Mr. Malfoy, any more witnesses?" McGonagall asked.

"No, your honor," Draco replied.

"The Wizengamot will now deliberate," McGonagall stated and the court was dismissed for the time being.

"We did all we could," Ginny murmured, not for herself, but more for Draco's comfort.

* * *

It was one of the fastest cases ever deliberated, and it seemed that the Wizengamot was of one mind when they returned. They were barely gone fifteen minutes, which was long enough for the atmosphere in the courtroom to sky-rocket. The members slowly returned to their floating platform, while everyone in the courtroom moved to the edge of their seat, anticipating the result of the vote with anxiety and eagerness. 

Tiberius Ogden, aged and wrinkly in a new robe, arose to read their deposition:

"According to the evidence presented to the members of Wizengamot by the prosecution and the defense, the Wizengamot reached an undeniable decision: Ginevra Molly Weasley is guilty of committing an assault and an attempted murder of Harry James Potter. Ginevra Molly Weasley is a threat to a peaceful society, and so this court hereby condemns her to be punished by death in the form of a Dementor's Kiss."

The two-second silence following this statement was unanimous. One would hear a pin drop, and then the realization dawned on them, and the wave of whispers run through the hall yet again.

Ginny gazed at the people that convicted of the crime with wonder in her eyes. A bunch of old men and women judging other people based on evidence presented by two lawyers with no way of relating to why the 'criminal' did what they did- some justice that was.She heard Hermione say something along the lines of 'Justice had been served' before her eyes slipped side-ways to Draco, and she saw the defeated expressed in his handsome features. She wished the circumstances had been different, that he had not been so mean at school, that there was not a family feud between them when everything was still possible. In the corner of her eye, she saw aurors approach to take her away forever. It was now or never.

Ginny stood up, Draco arose with her, and she turned to face him as if to say something. She closed the distance between them within fraction of a second, and grabbed his head, standing on her tip-toes to be level with him.

"Thank you," she murmured, and seeing the astounded, yet not offended message his grey eyes were so clear on, Ginny leaned forward and pressed her lips on his. Despite the warmth of the courtroom, Draco's lips were icy cold, contrasting with Ginny's flaming ones rather nicely. Soon after their lips met, Ginny pulled back, knowing that if she had done anything else, Draco would not be able to play it off as a thank-you kiss, but in the moment after the kiss, they both knew everything without having the need to say it.

'_Thank you_' were the last words that passed between them before she was taken away by the aurors to sail to Azkaban.

* * *

Ginny was standing at the stern of the ferry that was to take her to her death. Her calmness reflected the one of the ocean as they sailed on, for, just like when she greeted the sun in the morning, she was not afraid to say goodbye to it once it set as it did now. Her life, too, was coming to an end, and in those moments, when one awaits to be kissed by death, one, if brave, is calm. And so she was, watching the sunset, and how the darkness spread from the ocean into the sky. Ginny still did not regret her deeds, only, maybe that if she could have met Draco outside of that situation… Her fingers touched her lips, now cold instead of flaming, cooled down by the cold night air. She would never know if he loved her, or what might be, and that was worth every lament. 

The sun was gone now, and Ginny felt their presence dawning on her without any light once the sun was set. The ferry had only dementors on it, guarding a prisoner like herself, the aurors knowing that if she tried to escape they would kiss her right away. Ginny doubted that they would reach Azkaban before her soul was sucked out of her body; it would not be the first time the dementors did not follow their orders. A wave of coldness washed over her, they were coming.

The night was tranquil, filled with silence that was perfectly suited for Ginny's brooding. And then she heard a swish, as if something was moving through the air. She turned around; expecting a dementor to be there, but there was nothing. No, wait, at the bow, there was something bright and filled with light, separating and making its way among the dementors that were gathered there. The hare, for that what the light was, made its way to Ginny who automatically leaned down and offered her hand to it.

By that time, the dementors realized that the ferry was under an attack, and another Patronus was flung at them. A wolf, and then a lionfish swam through the darkness, and the dementors fled just to regroup before attacking. A dark, cloaked and masked, figure on a broom came swooping Ginny from the sky, and quickly put her behind him on the broom. Ginny, having nothing else to do, grabbed his waist, and they rose to the sky, two female fliers covering their escape with their bright Patronuses.

Ginny, and her rescuers or kidnappers were flying towards the British mainland, the dementors closely behind. Ginny, having no wand to fight and no broom to fly was left to figure out her chances. The dementors were about thirty feet behind them, and it was a dark, cloudy night, perfect for some soul-sucking. If they escaped the dementors, whoever rescued her was bound to be found eventually and killed with her. And who were they? Goodness! She did not even know if they rescued her to free her or to pronounce a judgment on her that was harsher than the one the Wizengamot made. Either way, it was hopeless.

* * *

A/N: Wow, this chapter was long. I took my time with it, too. I am so sorry to disappoint anyone who thought that Draco was going to rescue her! But that's what happened, and I cannot lie. Don't turn away from me.. I promise some D/G goodness later on hides 


	9. Chapter 9

A/N: This chapter is short, but well... read on...

Disclaimer: Belongs to JKR...

* * *

_Recap: _

_The night was tranquil, filled with silence that was perfectly suited for Ginny's brooding. And then she heard a swish, as if something was moving through the air. She turned around; expecting a dementor to be there, but there was nothing. No, wait, at the bow, there was something bright and filled with light, separating and making its way among the dementors that were gathered there. The hare, for that what the light was, made its way to Ginny who automatically leaned down and offered her hand to it. _

_By that time, the dementors realized that the ferry was under an attack, and another Patronus was flung at them. A wolf, and then a lionfish swam through the darkness, and the dementors fled just to regroup before attacking. A dark, cloaked and masked, figure on a broom came swooping Ginny from the ferry, and quickly put her behind him. Ginny, having nothing else to do, grabbed his waist, and they rose to the sky, two female fliers covering their escape with their bright Patronuses. _

_Ginny, and her rescuers or kidnappers were flying towards the British mainland, the dementors closely behind. Ginny, having no wand to fight and no broom to fly was left to figure out her chances. The dementors were about thirty feet behind them, and it was a dark, cloudy night, perfect for some soul-sucking. If they escaped the dementors, whoever rescued her was bound to be found eventually and killed with her. And who were they? Goodness! She did not even know if they rescued her to free her or to pronounce a judgment on her that was harsher than the one the Wizengamot made. Either way, it was hopeless._

* * *

  
The dementors were closing in on them, and the fear, as to herald its source, gripped their hearts. Ginny hugged closer to her rescuer, good or evil, against dementors they'd have to stand together. There was no doubt about the true nature of dementors, and once someone ripped a sure prey from their long, sticky, dead fingers, they would not be appeased by a simple recovery. No, the dementors that were now chasing after them were after all of them, not only her. Their Patronuses were chasing after them, trying to keep the mass of dementors from following them, but it was futile. The wolf faded first, followed by the hare and Ginny knew that the lionfish would not last long without the other two.

The masked stranger in front of her looked back and cursed silently- obviously worried by the same thing as Ginny. He motioned to the other two, and they all tried to recast the spell. The lionfish grew stronger, and the wolf came to being, but the hare stayed at the tip of the wand of one of the figures, the spell producing only hazy clouds of light. Ginny felt the broom under her to slow down, waiting for the owner of the hare Patronus to catch up to them.

Once the hare-caster was in line with the other two, they regained their speed and the witch or wizard was able to recast his or her Patronus again, and the hare hopped to join the wolf and the lionfish. The person in front of her glanced back again and muttered something Ginny could not understand. If he or she thought the race was hopeless, then she agreed with him or her wholeheartedly.

"Here," the person in front of her trusted a wand into her hand, and Ginny felt a burst of magical energy surge through her. "Use it!" He (his voice was too deep to belong to a female) yelled since Ginny was staring at the wand like a Muggle would.

Magic. After a month she was finally allowed a wand, and she could use it in battle. Ah, the power. Ginny thought of the moment when her and Draco's lips met in the courtroom, shouted:

"Expecto Patronum!" and a huge horse erupted from her wand, galloping back to fight the dementors.

The small group, having now four Patronuses to defend them, sped up, gaining on the dementors. Ginny kept sustaining her Patronus to its fullest strength; the horse glowing the strongest, for the other three had to pay attention to flying as well as fighting.

While Ginny was thus preoccupied in the back, the small party made it to the British mainland, and the strong spells placed on the island as a part of the Potter reforms of 1999, prevented the dementors from following. Without knowing how, the reckless 'rescue' was successful, and they came down in a small forest somewhere in Scotland.

"Hurry up," the man muttered to Ginny, reminding her to jump off the broom as they landed, running towards a small shack.

The dark shack was soon illuminated by the light shining from the four wands, illuminating a cage that contained a chimpanzee. Ginny gave her masked rescuers a puzzled look; what in the world…? The three figures remained masked, one of them taking something from under their cloak that looked like a thermos, and a shinning silver dagger. Ginny's eyes widened at the notion.

* * *

Ron was sleeping in that morning, his tall frame spooning Hermione's smaller one closely. Or he was until the fireplace in their room turned bright green and Harry's head appeared in it.

"Wha…?" Ron asked with one eye opened.

"Ginny was kidnapped. They found her dead this morning in Scotland," Harry rattled off quickly. "No one knows yet, we have to go!"

"I am going with you." Hermione stated, getting out of bed to get dressed.

"No, you are not," Ron replied, putting his cloak on as Harry's head watched them bicker.

"I am too. I am as much part of this family as you are, Ronald," Hermione said resolutely.

"I don't know Hermione, what I saw was well- pretty gory." Harry chirped in from the fireplace.

"I am not staying home." There was no arguing with Hermione when she put on a certain expression, and the expression that Ron and Harry came to know rather well was on right now.

"Fine, Hermione, but who is gonna stay with the kids?" Ron posed the question and Hermione glared at him angrily.

"Ask the Reynolds," Hermione suggested to Ron who snorted.

"We ask them almost every week. They are fed up with us."

"My mother?" Hermione said meekly, and Ron nodded.

"I'll call her."

* * *

Having sorted out the babysitting arrangements, the Weasley couple set out to apparate to the location that Harry indicated before disapparating himself. Within seconds they were in Scotland in front of the very same shack in which Ginny and her rescuers took refuge couple hours ago.

Their shock was unanimous. When Harry said it was pretty gory, he was not at all close. The image in front of them was disgustingly gruesome, all the more real with the dawn downing on them, and their other sense coming to life. The horror-struck tranquility that overpowered them was broken by Hermione's sob. She hid her head on Ron's chest, and continued weeping there. Harry, who's seen the monstrosity before their arrival, tentatively patted his best friend's back.

The scene was truly monstrous; the body of Ginevra Weasley was strapped to the front of the house. She was completely naked, nothing covering the violent slashes that covered her whole body. It was obvious to everyone present what induced those slashes- a silver dagger laid near her body. The worst was yet to come; much like the message the heir of Slytherin left on the wall in Hogwarts, red letters grew under Ginny's body. It read:

'_For Harry Potter, justice had been served._'

Harry stared at the dead body of his ex-wife with dry eyes that mirrored neither love nor hate. He felt bad for her family who would definitely be affected by her horrific death.

"The dementors say that whoever did this took Ginny right before she was to be Kissed. They chased after them, but they used the Patronus curse. The dementor I talked to said that the Patronuses were a horse, a hare, a wolf and a lionfish. I don't know anyone with such a combination of Patronuses," Harry finished, addressing the mystery that gripped their hearts: who did this?

"I can't think of anyone either," Hermione said, moving away from Ron and taking out her wand.

"Hermione, what are you doing?" Harry asked warily.

"Ron, go and take her down." Hermione ordered her husband. "Harry, I am going to check if there were any spells placed on this place and see if I can find any traces of magic. Honestly! You should have thought of that before I got here."

Hermione waved her wand, moving around the forest clearing and into the shack, but after three hours they got almost nowhere. Harry suggested that some of the slashes look like Sectusempra, and Ron had the sensibility of covering Ginny's body with his cloak while a team of aurors double checked Hermione's charms. They found no traces of magic, except for Harry's suggestion and landing marks from brooms.

They were all taking a break when a new auror-in-training came rushing to them and said:

"Mr. Potter, we are having hard time keeping the reporters away. They want a public declaration or something…"

Harry sighed, being interviewed by the reports was the last thing he wished for, but being the head of the auror office, he had no choice.

"I'll be back soon," he muttered to Ron and Hermione who were naturally speculating about Ginny's murderers.

* * *

A brown, tawny owl knocked on the window of the new Malfoy Manor, and Pansy let her in. It landed on the dinner table where the family was eating their dinner. Draco gave the owl a few Knuts, and untied a special edition of Daily Prophet from its leg. Glancing at the big picture of Harry Potter's face above the title 'Murderess Murdered', he snorted but proceeded to read out loud the article:

"_Ginevra Weasley, recently condemned for an attempted murder of Harry J. Potter, was found dead this morning in Scotland. The prisoner was snatched from the dementors' claws on her way to Azkaban where she was to receive the Kiss, and brought to a small shack near the shore where she was brutally murdered by yet unidentified wizards or witches. Harry Potter says for the Ministry: "While we realized that Ginevra Weasley was a prisoner condemned to death, her death under such circumstances is unacceptable and the Ministry will look until we find her murderers. As of now, we don't know much more than the reporters, only that the murder was vicious and monstrous and in a complete opposition to our sense of justice…"_

Draco didn't finish reading the article out loud, for he let go of the newspaper, allowing it to slip between his slender fingers and fall on the floor, and chuckled lightly to himself.

* * *

A/N: Don't give up on me!!! I can't explain without, you know, giving away the plot, but it's not as bad as it seems! 

Reviews:

Orlando's Dancer - better late than never ;), thanks for the review!  
fic-princess-Thanks! Glad you liked it!  
Lady Slone- I shall say that it's a magical trial and that Hermione is esteemed so highly that they did let her be the prosecutor. Thanks for the review!  
PinkMusicalCherry- Aw! I thought their kiss was cute too.  
Dracoginnylover24- There was nothing I or Draco could do to make them change their decision. They had way too much evidence against her.  
Kanui d'Astor- Heh, now after this slightly confusing chapter it's should be clearer... or not. All WILL become clear in the next chapter I think...  
Lord of the Silent- Nope, can't say I've read that book. Or heard of it, even. All coming out of my own head here...except for the character of course. Thanks for reviewing!  
koolgirl1993- Speaking of things that should have happened to Ginny... but I promise, it's not as bad as it appears. Thanks for reviewing!


	10. Chapter 10

A/N: I am really sorry that it took me forever to update, but I am uber- busy with school and other things. One of them is my first Star Wars fic that I am co-writing with Haezel (to any Star Wars fan out there: please read it! We are having lots of fun writing it!!), and you know, offline stuff. I shall try to write more and more often xD. Happy Holidays everyone!

Disclaimer: Belongs to JKR blah blah blah

* * *

The owls flew all over the country, bringing the devastating, or joyful, news to everyone affiliated with the Wizarding society. The Burrow, in Ottery St. Catchpole was no exception, and the snowy owl that was working on schedule there was getting more and more aggravated as the man, who sat at the table weeping silently in obvious despair, continued ignoring her tapping. His shoulders were shaking as he pounded the table again and again in mute agony. 

Poor Mr. Weasley! There was nothing he could when his only daughter was tried for crimes, he knew she couldn't commit! Tried by his own friends, nonetheless! During the past month, there were times when he almost went to Azkaban knowing that Ginny, his Ginny, could had never done those things they accused her of, but then there were times when he was sure that his own daughter was possessed. He, much like the rest of the family, spent the past month in indescribable agony: they wanted to know for sure, and yet they were afraid of gaining the knowledge. What must have Ginny thought of them! They sent her to her death… Mr. Weasley's shoulders shook more violently as a new wave of sorrow overtook him. No, not his little princess.

The owl outside grew more restless. He was cold, hungry, and thirsty and on schedule- the grief, however great, of another man was of no matter to the bird. He tapped the window with more force until the man finally rose, put on his glasses, and let the owl in.

Mr. Weasley quickly gave the owl a Knut and opened the paper. 'Murderess Murdered' rung through his ears, as he sank to the floor. This must be a nightmare. It was bad enough when the Wizengamot announced their verdict, but Ginny, violently murdered by some fanatics? No, it could not be real. The Dark Lord was defeated, the worst should be gone. And why, oh why, was this happening to his family? Had there not been enough?

A loud 'pop' outside disturbed the flow of his desperate thoughts. The 'pop' was soon followed by another, and the small kitchen of the Burrow was filled with his sons and their wives hurrying inside in no time.

"Dad, have you seen?" Bill, his eldest, asked, as Fleur stared at them with eyes wide open.

"Ginny? I mean…" Fred, whom as it turned out did not die during the War (Lee Jordan and Fred Weasley were experimenting with long-lasting Polyjuice when Harry Potter called for reinforcements during the Battle of Hogwarts) and George had the same perplexed expression plastered on their freckled faces.

"Harry declared it, Dad," Percy explained, walking in through the door with his wife, Penelope, on his arm..

"This is horrible news," Penelope said moving towards the stove as she sensed that a cup of tea would do everyone good.

"Oh, Ginny, why did you…" Fred did not have to finish his twin's sentence this time, for it was obvious what his thoughts were.

Bill wrapped his arm around Fleur as she cried quietly into his shirt.

"I was the last one to speak to her," he said into the silence that overpowered them.

"I- it's all my fault." Mr. Weasley said, turning to the window to hide his tears from his children, "I should have been there for her."

"Dad, we are all guilty of that charge," Charlie, who came in late said as to comfort his father, but his own sadness was displayed all too well on his compassionate face.

It was a long night at the Burrow. Every member of the family felt like there was a part of the guilt on everyone's shoulders, but still, their own conscience seemed to burn the hottest. The tea that Penelope gave out became salty with their tears, some of them crying openly, others hugging their closest ones and some turning away. Though the scene was filled with grief, some of the members of the family were still missing. The ample Weasley matriarch and the youngest son were not there, but it was not until an hour or so after the news had been delivered that anyone had the mind to ask about them.

"…Fred, not a word to your mother about this, mind you," Mr. Weasley warned Fred, but it was clear that the warning was addressed to the whole family, "She would be devastated."

"And what is she now?" Percy muttered under his breath, and Bill, sitting next him, flashed him a threatening look. "Where is Mum?"

"She is sleeping," Mr. Weasley replied. "She spent the whole time since the trail weeping, and I persuaded her to take some sleeping potion."

"Are Ron and Hermione going to join us?" Penelope chipped in, now realizing that Mrs. Weasley was not the only one missing from their flock.

"I think that they are still working with Harry, dear," Percy replied tentatively.

It did not matter to them that the night outside was passing by, or that Mrs. Weasley's sleeping potion wore off, or that the whole Wizarding world was discussing the hot topic as they kept their vigil. The family ties, silent understanding, and knowing, or hoping, that they could withstand the worst, even something as horrible as death of their little sister, was what kept them all awake. True, the night was spent in the memory of Ginny, but to the Weasleys that were present, the vigil meant so much more.

* * *

The Weasleys had spent the night that they bonded more closely as a family, in vain, for their only daughter was not dead. In fact, she was quite well, and except a few scratches, in one pieces at the new Malfoy Manor in Wales. Despite the conspiracy theories that tried to link the events with variety of wizarding terrorist groups, religious fanatics and secret societies, the series of events that took place that night was quite simple: 

"_Hurry up," the man muttered to Ginny, reminding her to jump off the broom as they landed, running towards a small shack._

_The dark shack was soon illuminated by the light shining from the four wands, illuminating a cage that contained a chimpanzee. Ginny gave her masked rescuers a puzzled look; what in the world…? The three figures remained masked, one of them taking something from under their cloak that looked like a thermos, and a shinning silver dagger. Ginny's eyes widened at the notion._

"Don't be silly," the woman, for it was a female that came forward with the dagger and thermos, said in almost an angry tone.

"What are you going to do?" Ginny mumbled, backing against the wall- even if she was not afraid of death, the current situation was at the very least… peculiar.

"Here," the woman trusted the thermos full of sticky potion in her hand, "Put some of your hair in it, would you?"

Ginny did as she was told, still quite confused by their actions. If they were going to kill her, they would have done it by now, right? And what was the chimpanzee for? Well, on the other hand, she could see what the alternative would- was. The woman gave a cup of Polyjuice with Ginny's hair to the chimpanzee who drunk it thankfully. Ginny almost felt bad for the animal when it was hit with an Avada Kedavra from the man's wand.

"Should I cut it?" he offered meekly, as the two women backed away.

"Wait," Ginny peeped from her place by the wall.

"What?" the man, almost nervously, snapped at her.

"I know a curse that might help," she offered weakly and pointed her wand at the chimpanzee's body: "Sectusempra!"

"Should have thought of that," one of the women said in a dreamy voice.

The other three joined in and slashed the body that now looked like Ginny. The escapee found the picture very grotesque, seeing her own body, although she knew it was an altered chimpanzee, on the floor covered with slashes, it was like seeing one's death from a bird's perspective.

"Drink this," the woman with the dream voice said, handing Ginny a cup. Ginny gave her a puzzled look, for her voice appeared familiar.

"Do I know…"

"Shh. Drink." the woman shushed her quickly, drinking from another cup that was filled with Polyjuice as well.

Ginny obeyed her, and soon she felt her body transfiguring into someone else's. The wizards and witches around her changed quickly as well and took of their masks. There were two men, one of them looking distinctively like Gilderoy Lockhart and the other had dark brown hair and a beard. The two men hurried outside, bringing the levitated body and the dagger along. The other woman turned into someone well into their forties, and Ginny, horrified, realized that her hands shrunk and that she had the body of an old woman.

"Hurry up," the woman muttered. "We have to use Muggle transportation for at least part of the journey and the train leaves in twenty minutes. Besides, I am surprised that the Ministry hadn't showed up yet."

The four of them made it through the forest alright, and hurried towards the train station. None of the Muggles paid them any attention, with the exception of the lady who sold tickets and asked if she had seen Ginny somewhere. Ginny froze and replied that it is highly unlikely. Checking her complexion in the station bathroom mirror, she was once again appalled because she recognized the face staring back at her.

"Walburga Black!" she exclaimed in whisper to her companions after she returned from the bathroom. "Out of all people! Are you insane? Someone can recognize me!"

"She is dead. Nobody liked her when she was alive," the bearded man replied slowly. "They will be careful not to look for her now."

"John is right," the 'younger' woman replied. "No one would like her to come back. Now stop this chatter, people are starring."

Ginny was about to reply with a sharp 'let them stare', but a warning look from the man that looked like Lockhart stopped her.

* * *

In similar fashion, the quarto made it to a small train station in Wales. The bearded man, 'John', had explained to the few passengers on the train that they were bringing his 'aunt' back to her secluded house in Wales after she had spent the holidays in Scotland with John, his sister and her husband. Ginny's rescuers played their roles cheerfully, as if they did not realize the implications of their crime. Oh, if they were caught, the Kiss would be a certainty for all of them. 

Once they got off the train in Wales, the quarto went and quickly hid behind a green train. There, to Ginny's surprise were four brooms waiting in the hands of a smiling Draco Malfoy who was leaning against a cart in the most cocky way possible.

"Seems like my plan had worked after all, hm?" he said with a self-satisfied smirk, and handed the brooms to them.

Ginny had no idea how to react.

"How does it feel to be free?" he practically glowed with glee, reminding Ginny of a small child when it finally learns how to fly his kite.

The other three, John, his sister and her husband, waited for Ginny to say something. And then she smacked him with her big, brown purse.

"You idiot!" she started yelling and continued hitting him. "You can get a Kiss for rescuing me! And they too! I don't even know who they are! Stupid Malfoy! Can't lose a client, can you? Ah! You are so insecure! Who asked you to put your head on the line for me? Why did you rescue me?"

Ginny's rescuers stared at her astounded. Draco slowly pushed her away, moving slightly as to bow and said in an icy voice:

"I should like to think that's obvious. I am sorry, your Highness. Feel free to return to Azkaban, if you'd like."

It was Ginny's turn now to gasp.

"I- I am sorry," she muttered, looking down, now ashamed of her reaction. "It was not an appropriate way for me to react. It's just that you are risking so much for so little…"

"No matter," Draco, obviously still sulking did not reply, rather John did. "This is neither the time nor the place. Let's fly to the Manor and all arrangements, including throwing axes at the Malfoy, swearing and throwing flower pots, shall be made."

The flight was not long, but with Ginny flying in the middle and the other four forming a cross around her it took slightly longer. It also gave her no opportunity to try to appease the proud Malfoy, for which she was grateful since she had no idea how to treat him. Of course, she knew that there was some attraction between them, they kissed and she enjoyed it very much. But she thought she would never see him again, and the kiss was the last thing that would pass between them. On the whole, she was not sure if he felt the same way about her, or even, if he had a girlfriend or fiancé. He rescued her, but all in all, it could have been his pride that drove him to the recklessness and not some hidden feelings for her.

"You will have to stay inside for some time," Draco said as they landed and he levitated the brooms into the broom shed by his mansion. "We are going to tell people that you are my cousin from France and that you are staying over because your mother died and you have nowhere else to go."

"Okay," Ginny nodded. "Except that I look nothing like you."

"You are going to be inside for most of the time," Draco replied coolly.

"Let's go inside. We have more work tonight, you know Drakie," the woman, slowly changing back said before walking through the kitchen door and the others followed her.

"Draco," Ginny coughed out, grabbing him by the hand, before he had the time to walk through the door, "I am really sorry about what I said. I am not ungrateful, you know, but you should not have risked that much for me."

"Would you have rather died?" he asked her coldly, slowly freeing his wrist from hers.

"I-" Ginny hesitated for a second, and he scoffed.

"It is my neck on the line again," he told her. "I cannot let you leave and return to Azkaban now. They would kill me, and the people who rescued you, as well."

"I know that," Ginny said, wanting him to understand that it was more complicated than it seemed. "I just wanted to say 'sorry' and 'thanks'."

He gave her a long look before he nodded courtly and the two of them went inside.

* * *

**Thanks to everyone who reviewed! I really appreciated reading your thoughts! Now to my replies:**

Orlando's Dancer- Just striving to please, you know Yeah, it was a cliffie..

LoVeAngel97- posted xD. Thanks for the review!

PinkMusicalCherry- Good guess, but no. Their identities should come clear in the next chapter.

fic-princess- Cliff hangers are fun though hehe

duj- Harry is not a Minister... not yet, anyway. But you were right on.

Dracoginnylover24- Hehe, thanks for the review. Hope you enjoyed this chapter. \

AuntAnnie- I know, it took me forever to update... so sorry. Thanks for the review though.

boredlittlestudent- Lol, I don't think I topped it with this chapter, but there is more to come! I promise!

Alexandria J. Malfoy- Aw, so you were the first click, eh? Thanks for the review!!

Runa- Aww, thanks. I am doing my best, really.

Beidah- Glad that you like it ;)

tree stump- Oh, wow, thanks. I like that analogy too. Well, her family did not completely write her off- I tried to shed some light on their feelings on the whole thing in this chapter. They are all conflicted because well, they don't know whose side they should take... Thanks for the review :)

flamingbunnies- You were almost right. Of course, the kidnappers are someone else, but you are close.;)

gineveramalfoy1894- I am happy to inform you that Ginny is not dead :D Thanks for the review!


	11. Chapter 11

A/N: I am so sorry that it took me like a month to update and it's not even a good update. It was SUPPOSED to be longer, but it kinda isn't. I am just so busy with my life right now that I really don't have the time to write... so sorry to anyone who still reads this fic...

Disclaimer: I am shamelessly stealing everything from JKR... yeah, right, all characters belong to JKR

* * *

Ginny followed Draco down the stony staircase that remained her of the Hogwarts dungeons. She walked closely behind him, partly because of the need to stay with him and make up for her behavior and partly because it was rather dark, and she was afraid of getting lost. When they finally reached the end of the staircase, they entered a spacey, underground, dark room in which Ginny could hear water dripping somewhere in the corner. The feeling that they were standing in a dungeon was enhanced by the sound, making Ginny almost expect Professor Snape to greet them with a sardonic remark. She knew it was impossible- Snape died during the War, and even if he did not, it was too dark to see anything.

Regardless of the fact that the light was missing, a thought that concerned her rescuers' identity remained on Ginny's mind. All throughout their mad journey across the country, the question lingered in the back of her mind, like a shadow at noon, just waiting to jump out, but in the light of on-going events it could not. And now, when she was standing in a dark room under the Malfoy Manor (II), Ginny could not help but wonder who the people that risked their lives for her were. She recalled their Patronuses, and yet that gave her no clue. She prided herself in knowing most of her close friends and families' animal, but she could place any of them no matter how hard she tried. Her thought process, though it took only a few seconds, was disturbed by a voice:

"Lumos!" One of Ginny's travel companions whispered, and the room that they were standing in was made visible.

Ginny soon realized that the room was nowhere near a dungeon. Rather, the stony room was a large underground bathroom. The dripping water was, naturally, dripping from a silver faucet into a square-pool bathtub. Two mirrors covered one of the walls in front of a white-marble sink, and there were fresh towels neatly stocked up in one of the cabinets. Ginny had seen many luxurious bathrooms, especially after the War, but this one certainly had been one of the most lavish and elegant. The Malfoys certainly had a style.

Ginny did not have much time to contemplate about the interior designs of the Malfoys, for one of her rescuers approached her rapidly, squeezing her in a tight hug.

"We almost lost you, Ginny!" the bearded man exclaimed as his dark hair started to turn dirty yellow.

Something in Ginny's head clicked.

"Luna?" she murmured in disbelief.

"Good job, Weasley," another voice said behind her, and once Luna let her go, Ginny moved around to see a smirk plastered on the face of Pansy Parkinson.

"Parkinson? Pansy Parkinson?" Ginny questioned with a certain amount of skepticism, as if she did not trust her own eyes.

"Surprised?" Pansy looked at her arrogantly. "What?" she continued, "Did you expect someone else? Granger-Weasley, perhaps? Well, don't read too much into this, Weasley. I did it for Draco."

"Of course," Ginny muttered coldly, avoiding the eyes of either of them.

"Don't mind Pansy, darling," a man, whom Ginny did not recognize instantly, came forward, "She is usually a little testy after flying. Not her greatest skill."

"Blaise Zabini?" Ginny felt like she was a in dream- a very real one, but still a dream.

"'tis I! 'tis I!" Blaise pronounced dramatically. "And I would like to say that it was my pleasure rescuing you, m'lady."

Ginny smiled lightly, looking at the man with wonder in her eyes. She remembered him from school, but she did not remember much. Now, he appeared to be most un-Slytherin.

"I am sure it was pleasure, Blaise- for you anyway. But we still have some work to do tonight," Pansy reminded him, coming forward.

"Well, feel free to proceed," Blaise said, leaning back against a wall.

"Blaise…" Pansy growled warningly.

"Wha? I've seen it all before." Blaise replied coyly in his defense.

"Honestly, Blaise, I doubt that there will be much to see," Draco, who kept quiet until now, intervened. "She's half-starved to death."

"If you don't like women any more that's fine with me, Draco." Blaise leered in reply.

"Blaise…" Luna's eyes met his, and Blaise slowly detached himself from the wall and walked towards the exit.

"That's right, mate, let's go," Draco smirked, following Blaise, "Be a good dog, and listen to your wife." And the two of them disappeared up the stairs.

"Wife?" Ginny's eyebrows rose as she made the connection.

"We got married," Luna explained. "Last month. That's why I wasn't there when you tried to kill Harry. We were in Australia."

"Yeah," Ginny nodded slowly. "I remember that."

"He proposed and I said yes," Luna continued, glad to finally share her happiness with her friend.

"That's how it usually goes," Pansy agreed bitterly. "Now can we please get to what we are supposed to be doing? I would like to get some sleep tonight."

"What are we supposed to be doing?" Ginny asked, her voice matching Pansy's. Ginny had never had a reason to like the other witch, and treating her nicely, especially when Pansy was being clearly unfriendly, was out of question.

"Changing your hair and general appearance," Luna answered before Pansy had the chance to open her mouth. "And you should take a bath as well. You smell worse than a dead and rotting Blibbering Humdinger."

There was a silence. And then Ginny chuckled. She had not done that in a long while. Luna smiled back. Pansy was looking at them with a bemused smirk. It seemed that the tension between the two, if not gone, at the very least decreased.

Ginny sniffed herself.

"I guess you are right, I do have a certain-"

"Body odor?" Pansy offered meekly.

"Yes, quite. Bath sounds wonderful." Ginny smiled, using the unfamiliar facial muscles.

After Ginny took a bath, scrubbing the Azkaban filth off herself, and realizing with a sudden worry that Draco was right, and she did look like a skeleton, the three witches spent about three hours putting a variety of lotions, balms, extracts, potions and charms on her. Ginny felt incredibly pampered, almost silly for all that attention she was getting, but it was nice. Though, she had to admit that the worst part of the whole makeover was when they changed her hair colour. She understood the necessity, yet she could not help feeling a little sad when her newly washed and flamboyant red mane took on different colours as the two witches were trying to pick the right one. In the end, they agreed on blonde- a mix between Luna's dirty blonde and Draco's platinum. In process of making her unrecognizable by her family and friends, Pansy also used a spell on Ginny's freckles and Luna altered her cheekbones and chin. When Ginny finally looked into the mirror, she saw her chin to be pointy and distinctly Malfoy-ish, her hair blonde and her cheekbones high. The only thing that remained the same about her face were her cinnamon-brown eyes, staring seriously back at her, for the playful spark, that made her a famous prankster at Hogwarts, had died out years ago.

"I think that blonde definitely works for you," Luna commented, standing behind Ginny.

"Better than that horrible orange," Pansy assented. "Now let's get you something to wear."

"What?" Ginny, who was currently thinking of the person whom she so closely resembled now, was not exactly paying much attention to the words of Pansy Parkinson.

"Clothes," Pansy said, as if she was explaining something to a five year old. "Here, we don't walk around naked. Or in our bathrobes."

"Really? Could have fooled me," Ginny retorted weakly.

"Accio clothes!" Luna ordered, and a pile of clothes came flying from one of the closets that lined the walls.

"They are yours," Luna pointed to the clothes. "We weren't sure what your size was, but we can shrink them if we have to."

Yes, she certainly was too skinny. As she moved, Ginny could feel that it was not the fat she lost; rather she lost quite a lot of her muscle tissue in Azkaban. She had no will to eat, and the dementors had no will to spoon-feed her anything. Well, they had the will, just not the means. It wouldn't have mattered if everything went according to the plan, and she died, but it didn't. It didn't go according to the plan from the beginning when Harry did not die. And then, well, then, everything went into havoc.

"Gin," Luna called, breaking Ginny's trance once again, "Why don't you try this on?"

Ginny did as she was told, pulling on a white t-shirt, a pair of dark-blue jeans and a black jumper.

"This will do for now," Pansy looked at her critically. "But when you go outside, you'll have to dress like a Malfoy."

"I know how to dress," Ginny replied dully, giving Pansy a leveled look. Since her life was not over, and it did not seem like it would be for a while, she should stop all this melancholy and see what she could do while still being alive.

"I was the wife of the head Auror," Ginny continued, now with more force. "I am sure I can dress _like a Malfoy_."

Pansy raised her eyebrows.

"I have my doubts, Mrs. Potter."

"Why don't you keep them to yourself then?" Ginny countered.

"Ginevra, really," Luna scolded her. "Pansy, why don't you go and call the boys? Ginny is ready. And then we can all go to bed."

Much to Ginny's surprise, Pansy obeyed and went up the stairs.

"Don't mind her, Gin," Luna told her once Pansy was gone. "She is not a bad person. A little mean, yes, but overall, she's not too bad. She loves Draco and Blaise very much."

"I could see that," Ginny's voice was laced with sarcasm, and she could almost taste the bile on her tongue.

Luna's silvery eyes examined her patiently, making Ginny shiver. She did not mean to sound so snappy.

"I am sorry," Ginny apologized quickly. "Now tell me about your honeymoon and marriage."

"It's wonderful," Luna started, obviously distracted by the opening. "It's perfect. It started off about a year back. Blaise and I met at this convention and well…" Most atypically, Luna was blushing, and Ginny was watching her with her friend's excitement mirrored in her own eyes.

"Il mio dio," Blaise muttered in Italian, being the first to come down the stairs, "E più bello di un sorgere del sole luglio."

Luna smiled.

"Yes, that will do." Draco commented, coming down.

"Will do?" Pansy was rather irritated by the remark. "We worked our asses off to make her look like this, and you can't do better than 'will do', Draco? What is she? A piece of furniture or a display poodle?" She scolded him angrily, before storming off.

"You look sizzling hot, my dear," Blaise complimented Ginny. "You girls did a great job."

The tension that positioned itself in the room once Draco entered was unmoved by Blaise's chitchat.

"We better go too," Blaise suggested, sensing the mood of the situation, "It is getting late."

"I will come and see you tomorrow," Luna squeezed Ginny's hands before leaving. "It's going to be alright."

The two of them hurried up the stairs, leaving Ginny and Draco alone in the bathroom. They looked at each other silently, neither too willing to speak.

"I'll show you your room," Draco offered with a gloom look on his face to break the silence.

"Okay," Ginny agreed, following him up the stairs.

They walked to a room in the east wing of the mansion in silence. Draco promptly opened the door, let her in, walked out and was about to close the door when Ginny chose to speak:

"Um, what about my wand?"

"It was snapped in two," Draco explained making a move to close the door again.

"I am going to need a wand."

It was true. Ginny felt incredibly vulnerable without that piece of wood.

"We'll get you a new one." Draco said, clearly not willing to deal with that at 5 o'clock in the morning, and was about to close the door again.

"I- thanks for rescuing me." Ginny told him.

"You repeat yourself, Weasley," Draco continued coldly, this time successful in closing the door, and leaving Ginny staring at the door with pain and anger on her face.

* * *

The rescuers, the brain behind the operation and the prisoner slept away the night and most of the day, not knowing that Harry Potter had meanwhile discovered the body of his ex-wife. They were oblivious in their slumber that the Weasleys were grief-stricken sitting at the Burrow, or that Hermione Granger-Weasley's mother was getting fed up with having to take care of two wizarding kids that almost always destroyed her house, or that in the election poles for the new Minister of Magic Ernie McMillan was leading with Susan Bones closely behind. No, they had no idea, and it can be said with a certain degree of certainty that they would not care.

After the long night and part of the morning, Luna and Blaise went home and slept the day away there. Pansy, Draco and Ginny slept it away at the Malfoy Manor, each in their separate room. However, at the end of the day, the three of them made it to the dinner which was conveniently served by Crabbe who was now a full-fledged employee of the Malfoys.

"Mother," Draco stood up as Narcissa entered, for the three of them were eating in silence. "This is Amelia, our cousin. I told you about her."

"Oh, of course," Narcissa walked forward, taking her place at the end of the maple table. If she was surprised by the name or appearance, she did not let it show.

Ginny had no idea what to do. She was never good at making up table conversation, but she felt like she should at least try to with this woman who was sitting to her right.

"That's a nice dress, Mrs. Malfoy," she complimented her, her own voice sounding fake and empty to her.

"Why, thank you, Amelia," Narcissa replied, watching her with her ice-blue eyes. "You must call me Narcissa. I cannot bear 'Mrs. Malfoy'."

Ginny was befuddled by the request, but she did her best to not let it show. Pansy and Draco watched the exchange, neither wanting to join the conversation most likely for the very same reasons.

"So what is it that you are going to do in England, Amelia?" Narcissa said, taking a sip of water from her goblet.

"I am not sure, Narcissa," Ginny answered, wondering if the other woman was trying to trick her.

"Well, there must be a purpose in your life, no?" Narcissa continued calmly.

"I-"

"Mother," Draco, Ginny doubted that he did it out of remorse, jumped in before she opened her mouth to speak. "I think that Amelia needs some time to rest after her mother's death. She is most welcome to do it here."

"Yes, of course, dear," Narcissa's icy gaze shifted on Draco, and an understanding passed between the mother and the son.

The moment was disrupted by something tapping on the window screen. A brown, tawny owl knocked on the window of the new Malfoy Manor, and Pansy let her in. It landed on the dinner table where the family was eating their dinner. Draco gave the owl a few Knuts, and untied a special edition of Daily Prophet from its leg. Glancing at the big picture of Harry Potter's face above the title 'Murderess Murdered', he snorted but proceeded to read out loud the article:

"_Ginevra Weasley, recently condemned for an attempted murder of Harry J. Potter, was found dead this morning in Scotland. The prisoner was snatched from the dementors' claws on her way to Azkaban where she was to receive the Kiss, and brought to a small shack near the shore where she was brutally murdered by yet unidentified wizards or witches. Harry Potter says for the Ministry: "While we realized that Ginevra Weasley was a prisoner condemned to death, her death under such circumstances is unacceptable and the Ministry will look until we find her murderers. As of now, we don't know much more than the reporters, only that the murder was vicious and monstrous and in a complete opposition to our sense of justice…"_

Draco didn't finish reading the article out loud, for he let go of the newspaper, allowing it to slip between his slender fingers and fall on the floor, and chuckled lightly to himself.

"That's perfect," Draco smirked smugly. "Potter could not have done it better if he knew what he was talking about."

Draco quickly skimmed the rest of the article, nodding approvingly at the pictures of the place, obviously content with what they did with the shack. Pansy was next to snatch the newspaper from him, and read it through. Ginny refrained from reading about her own death; it felt surreal to have it announced even by Draco, but she did not think she was in place to read about it.

* * *

Couple weeks went by and Ginny was getting used to her new life style with the Malfoys. Narcissa proved to be a fine companion and the two women spent much time together, since Narcissa went out seldom and Ginny had to stay inside most of the time as part of her disguise. She did not mind though, winter had never been her favorite time of the year; she simply thought it too cold. And so the two of them indulged in reading in the Malfoy library and discussing the books or taking care of the plants inside; Ginny taught Narcissa to cook and the older witch taught Ginny the fine art of fencing. It was quite a surprise too- Ginny would never expect _the_ Narcissa Malfoy to fence. Yet, she did, and she was good at it. They added it partly to their schedule so Ginny could regain some of the muscles she lost during her stay in Azkaban and partly because Narcissa said that a woman needs to know how to defend herself. Ginny protested that they were witches and they didn't need to know how to use the sword, but she complied nonetheless.

There was always Luna who visited two or three times a week, to chat or just to check up on her. Ginny took quick liking to Blaise, who was funny and easy-going unlike the other two Slytherins she was spending time with recently. When she watched them together, Ginny could not have been happier for her friend.

Ginny was almost happy there. She was regaining her old self, even pulling a prank on Crabbe once when she put whipped cream on his hand when he was napping and then tickled him with a feather. It was rather funny at the time, even Draco who apparated home from work right on time to see Crabbe smear the whipped cream all over his face, laughed. Pansy who came to see what the ruckus was about chuckled as well, which was more than rare.

There were only two things that troubled Ginny during her stay at the Malfoy Manor. One was the cold and hostile attitude she received from Draco and Pansy. She could not blame Draco, since she was the one who slapped him, and his anger was thus justified. But she wished she hadn't, she was sure that there was something between them before that, but she was not sure anymore. The only thing she was certain of was that she wished he treated her like he did when he thought she was going to die. Pansy, on the other hand, was a terribly moody person. Sometimes, she would be nice to her, but other days, she was worse than a medusa on steroids. The only relief was that Pansy did not spend most of her days at the Manor. She was a highly qualified head-healer and worked long hours at a private hospital, coming to the Manor every now and then to spend the night.

Second problem was presented by her family. The week after her 'death' was made official, the newspapers had nothing but stories about the Weasleys and how they were suffering the loss of their only daughter. Ginny's heart broke whenever she saw a picture of them in the papers, because the very thought of her causing them so much pain was unbearable. Yes, they did not come to her when she needed them the most, but the pain that was displayed clearly on all of their faces- well, Ginny thought she lost her heart and that she had no emotions after Azkaban, they made her realize that she was wrong. She missed and secretly suffered with them.

Unknown to her, the family watched her closely, observing every time she cried into her pillow, or felt hurt surge through her when she saw a picture of the Golden Trio or one of her family in the papers. Draco, not taking to account his cold treatment of her, was most troubled by this, since he thought that Ginny was unhappy at the Manor and that really he did her a great disservice by having her saved. More importantly than that, he felt like she did not mean anything by that one kiss in the courtroom. He thought that whatever made her kiss him was gone, forever gone without ever coming back. And so he distanced himself from her, stay at work later than usual, and getting nothing done. He wanted to save Ginny to make her happy, but that failed, and he made her completely unhappy. And hence, he had nothing to do but share her unhappiness.

Those were his thought as he watched Ginny fence with Narcissa out of the window that looked out on the gym. That was when Pansy found him, leaning against the window sill when she returned home that night.

"Hungry, Malfoy?" she chirped and walked towards him through the archway, leaning her briefcase against the wall and coming closer. "I can see you drool from here."

"I didn't hear you come in," Draco replied.

"I apparated into the hall," Pansy explained, coming closer to watch them fence as well. "She's becoming quite good."

"Yes, she is," Draco nodded gloomily.

"Draco, dear, you cannot keep going like this," Pansy said in her most shrink-like voice. "You are unhappy and she is unhappy."

"I made her unhappy." Draco sulked in the manner of a four year old.

"Yes, now you have," Pansy agreed.

"I should have let her die," Draco's mood was not altered by Pansy's agreement.

"No, I don't think you should have done that," Pansy disagreed.

"Well, she is unhappy because she is alive," Draco continued in the same sulky manner.

"No, Draco, that is no why she is unhappy," Pansy's voice sounded tired like she was. "She is unhappy because she thinks that you are unhappy."

Draco frowned, "What?"

"Draco, dear, don't make me repeat myself," Pansy rolled her eyes. "She thinks that her presence is bothering you, and that's why she is unhappy. And also, I think, because she slapped you."

"She is feeling remorse?" Draco's eyes lit up at the idea. "Pansy, are you sure?"

"It's my job, Draco."

"No, you cannot be right."

"Draco, damn it." Pansy sighed, "How short-sighted are you? She is unhappy because of you. Now go, fix it."

* * *

A/N: He will fix it! In the next chapter once I get around to writing it...

Reviews (thanks to everyone who reviewed!):

Kanui d'Astor- Yeah, I liked the guilt scene too. The Weasleys still have feelings! I swear! xD

Dracoginnylover24- Better late then never, eh? Thanks for the review

lightcard- glad you like it!

PinkMusicalCherry- updated :D took me a while though

gineveramalfoy1894- ugh, hard to answer this review without giving the plot away forces self not to give the plot away thanks for reviewing!!

EB- Yeah, you got it! It was Luna... gotta love her Thanks for the rev!

miss devil's kiss- Yay! Great that you like it, and I am sorry that it confuses you. It should all become clear for a little while now before it gets all tangled up and crazy again...


	12. Chapter 12

I actually took only two weeks to write this... I think... yeah, sorry about the lack of updates, but life is life

Disclaimer: Honestly...

* * *

"Hungry, Malfoy?" she chirped and walked towards him through the archway, leaning her briefcase against the wall and coming closer. "I can see you drool from here."

"I didn't hear you come in," Draco replied.

"I apparated into the hall," Pansy explained, coming closer to watch them fence as well. "She's becoming quite good."

"Yes, she is," Draco nodded gloomily.

"Draco, dear, you cannot keep going like this," Pansy said in her most shrink-like voice. "You are unhappy and she is unhappy."

"I made her unhappy." Draco sulked in the manner of a four year old.

"Yes, now you have," Pansy agreed.

"I should have let her die," Draco's mood was not altered by Pansy's agreement.

"No, I don't think you should have done that," Pansy disagreed.

"Well, she is unhappy because she is alive," Draco continued in the same sulky manner.

"No, Draco, that is no why she is unhappy," Pansy's voice sounded tired like she was. "She is unhappy because she thinks that you are unhappy."

Draco frowned, "What?"

"Draco, dear, don't make me repeat myself," Pansy rolled her eyes. "She thinks that her presence is bothering you, and that's why she is unhappy. And also, I think, because she slapped you."

"She is feeling remorse?" Draco's eyes lit up at the idea. "Pansy, are you sure?"

"It's my job, Draco."

"No, you cannot be right."

"Draco, damn it." Pansy sighed, "How short-sighted are you? She is unhappy because of you. Now go, fix it."

At last Draco's eyes left Ginny's fighting form, and he turned to face Pansy.

"Fix it? How?" he frowned, "Are you saying that I should kill her?"

"You are stupider than Crabbe, Malfoy," Pansy made a face. "Do I have to tell you step-by-step how to make a woman happy?"

Draco grew angry.

"I've made plenty of women happy."

"Yeah, the little Weasel as at the top of the list," Pansy spat back.

"Watch what you are saying, Pansy," Draco's male ego was obviously injured by the harsh implication.

"Okay," Pansy was now insulted as well. "If that's all, I'll go to my room and sleep. You can moor over your evil doings by yourself."

"Parkinson," Draco growled in warning.

"Malfoy," Pansy imitated him perfectly.

"Don't try to play mind games with me, Pansy," Draco advised her.

"I am not playing any games with you, Drakie," Pansy's voice was dripping with honey. "But I see that you don't need me out of all people to help you figure out your relationships. I shall go."

It was more than obvious to Draco that if he wanted to get something out of her, he would have to apologize. That's what she was driving at, and he, despite his ego injuries, truly needed her help. It was not that he was bad with women, rather the opposite, but Ginny was… well, Ginny was different, and he did not know what she thought or what was he to expect from her. His mother was not too willing to help him with the issue when he asked her about the time she was spending with Ginny. And now Pansy, whose advice he would usually trust, was offended by him. To Draco, the choice was clear, he would either apologize to his childhood friend and ask for her help, which he knew would flatter her, or he would have to stand where he stood before she came in and watch the love of his life fe- wait, love of his life? Draco's thought process came to a halt- when did he become so involved with a woman who… He leaned his forehead against the cold window sill as to clear it, and Pansy, who was watching him halfway towards the door returned.

"Draco?" She asked softly.

There was no reply.

"Draco," Pansy came closer.

The witch was uncertain of what she should do. Of course, she watched the Weasel and the Malfoy struggled with their feelings for each other for about a month now. Actually, she saw the love budding within the Malfoy since the beginning of the trial. She did not need to be an experienced head-healer, though it helped, to know what was going on, or rather not going, between them. They still interacted at dinner and breakfast, but regardless of what they had before, it seemed forced and unnatural. Pansy saw the pain in their eyes that they were oblivious to, and tonight, seeing Draco watching Ginny fence compelled her to make her decision to help them. Yet, it's hard to help someone who does not want your help.

"She loves you, Draco," Pansy continued from behind him. "God knows why, but she loves you. You have to stop being a prat about it, though, or you will lose her."

Draco, still leaning against the window, listened to her words falling on him as refreshing rain on a hot August day.

"You have to stop this nonsense now," Pansy carried on. "You have to stop making both of you unhappy."

"How can you be so sure?" Draco whispered from his place by the window.

"Sure? Sure of what?"

Draco did not reply.

"Well, along with the rest of the wizarding world, I saw you kiss in that courtroom," Pansy replied, guessing on what he was driving at. "She wouldn't have kissed you if she had not had any feelings for you, Drakie. Maybe some other would, but not her."

Draco heard her talk but he made no sound as to indicate that he was listening.

"Oh stop sulking Malfoy," Pansy muttered, trying yet another tactic to goad him in the right direction. "You are not five anymore. Here, in the adult world, we solve our problems instead of ignoring them or moping around."

"Like you did, yeah?" Draco went into the offensive directed at her past relationships, and though Pansy knew that it was only his ire speaking, she felt pain swell in her chest at the remark.

"Do you have to make the same mistakes I did?" Pansy's voice gained in volume. "Ah! Why are you so stupid Draco? Why can't you see the obvious?"

Pansy came near to crying, and so she turned around, balling her hands into fists of anger.

"I see the obvious," Draco turned around too, "You are just making up illusions. There is nothing between the Weasley and I."

Pansy almost laughed at those words.

"I am sure," she snorted. "Had a great reason to rescue her, then…"

Draco knew that what he said was false. He also knew that she knew that it was false.

"Fine, Pansy," he raised his hands in defeat. "Why don't you tell me how to 'fix it' then?"

Pansy heard the sarcasm in his voice, but on the other hand, she knew hat he could use the advice she had to offer, and so she gave it:

"How about being nice to her? Instead of always telling her that she is anorexic, or bad at whatever she is doing at the moment? It's very immature of you, Draco."

"Great idea, Pans," Draco agreed sardonically. "Why don't you fall in love with her too?"

Pansy thought it needless to point out that he just admitted to loving Ginny.

"Because I don't fall in love with any of the Weasleys on principle."

Draco stifled a snort. "Yeah, of course you don't."

Pansy gave him a short, pained look, but quickly regained her composure.

"I also suggest that you spend more time with her," she went on with giving him advice. "Take her out sometime, buy her a gift. Give her some attention; I am sure that after her life with Potter, she will be starved for it."

"Take her out," Draco sneered. "Nice one, Pans, and then we can all get arrested. Maybe we'll even get cells close together in Azkaban."

"You are stupider than you look," Pansy sighed tiredly. "If you haven't noticed, the Weaselette doesn't look like a Weasley anymore. No one will recognize her. Besides, you must take her out at some point. You cannot keep her inside for the rest of her life- that'd be like rescuing her from Azkaban just to lock her up in a nicer cage."

She did not want to add that her life probably won't be long if Draco doesn't do something about it. Soon.

"It's too risky," Draco objected.

"Yeah, because stealing her away from the dementors wasn't," Pansy remarked coldly. "You stole a golden apple from the Garden of Hesperides and noq you keep it behind a glass wall just so you can look at it."

Draco gave her a rare, but sad, smile at the analogy.

"Well, Draco," Pansy was done schooling him for the night, "You are old enough to know what you are doing. I hope you won't let your golden apple rot."

And with that, the dark-haired witch exited the room, leaving the Malfoy and his scattered thoughts behind.

* * *

"And the Malfoy loses again!" Ginny exclaimed, victoriously grabbing the snitch away from

"You cheated," Draco sulked.

"I did no such thing and you very well know that," she retorted, jumping off her broom and completing some sort of a weird victory dance.

"When did you learn to be such a good Seeker?" Draco inquired, slightly hurt from having lost to Ginny yet again.

"I used to steal my brothers' brooms back in the day and then fly on them for hours. Eventually, one gets good at that sort of thing," Ginny explained with sneer. "I actually wanted to become a professional Quidditch player for a while at Hogwarts."

"Me too," Draco confessed.

Ginny chuckled.

"And you think that they'd take you? You won what, three games out of ten?" she teased him lightly

"I am tired," Draco quickly conjured up an excuse. "Unlike you, I am not an ex-prisoner who spends all her time doing what she wishes in a luxurious mansion while a handsome young wizard fends for her in the cruel world of law."

"Handsome?" Ginny scoffed good-naturedly. "Is your ego clouding your vision, darling?"

"Of course not, darling," Draco kissed her nose lightly. "Rather, it sharpens my perfect vision."

"Does it really?" Ginny chuckled, burying her hands in his hair. "Why don't we see if it helps you catch the snitch?"

Draco's eyes glittered at the challenge, and the two of them rose into the air. They chased around, looking for the snitch, with neither finding it immediately. Then, Draco spotted it by a tall oak tree and quickly flew towards it, with Ginny tailing him behind and catching up to him. Draco was almost there. He stretched out his fingers and they brushed against the snitch, grabbing it and enveloping it in his palm. That was when he heard the shriek behind him and he quickly turned to see Ginny falling down from the 30 feet height. It felt as if it switched into slow motion, and it took forever for her to fall. Draco heard himself screaming, and flying down to catch her…

* * *

Draco awoke with a start. He sat up in his bed among his satin sheets, breathing hard. The dream he just had, in which he and Ginny were carelessly flying around- and then she fell. He remembered it clearly. The feeling of loss, so much graver than the one he felt at the court that day.

Draco was never the one to give fortune telling much credit, but the dream introduced a sense of fear. It was an early morning, maybe around five or six, when he hurried to the library to find a book to explain it. Yet, he felt like he needed no explanation.

He sat down in one of the armchairs near the hearth where two or three coals were fighting a losing battle for their life, still shaken by the vision. Draco pondered the implications of the dream: 'She was not in any danger now, was she?' He saved her from a certain death, and though she was unhappy as Pansy said, there was no immediate threat, right? Draco was getting another migraine as the fear from his stomach moved to his head.

"Can't sleep?" a soft voice that was coming from the other armchair by the hearth startled him.

Draco nearly jumped when he realized that the subject of his thoughts was curled in the armchair next to him. The appearance charms that she had to renew every morning were not renewed yet, and so the mane of her red hair formed a halo around her hand as it was illuminated by the fire and the few freckles that reappeared on her face. She was still not the same Ginny Weasley, for the charms that altered the shape of her face were stronger, but the change in her hair was enough for Draco to grow hot under her the calm gaze of her brown orbs.

"No," Draco said, and was about to remark upon her hair when Pansy's words came to his mind, and so he followed his sense of tact.

"Me neither," Ginny confessed, tearing her eyes away from him and staring sadly into the fire.

They sat in silence for a while, and Draco wished he could break it, yet he did not know how. He had the urge to ask her what was wrong, or whether she was mad at him, but he did not. He was not sure why he didn't, but his contemplating was disturbed by her soft voice once again:

"You know, I am sure I can leave now."

Draco was astounded by her words. As if she sensed it, but failed to understand why, Ginny continued:

"Pansy and Luna taught me all those appearance spells and I am sure I could apply them on my own. I could move out of the country and find a job or something. I wouldn't be a burden to you anymore. Or even live with Luna and Blaise, she offered, you know."

Draco opened his mouth couple times to speak and closed it. No sound came out from between his pallid lips.

"I wouldn't tell them who rescued me even if they were to find me," she went on, avoiding his intense gaze. "I am sure I could fend of Veritaserum, even the Imperius."

"Do you want to leave?" Draco choked out, feeling as if all his insides turned into ice. So Pansy was wrong in the end, she was not unhappy because he was unhappy. She was sad because she did not want to be near him. He swallowed with effort.

Ginny was caught off guard by the question.

"I-I mean., well-" she stuttered, finally stealing a glance at Draco who was ghastly pale.

"I won't stop you if you want to leave, Ginny," Draco said almost tenderly.

It was his last chance to try and fix whatever it was between them, and Draco was simply not willing to let it slip. It was now or never. Draco's urge to make peace wit her grew greater after his dream, but it was the necessity that compelled him say it.

"But," he continued, standing up and coming around to face her, his eyes intense on hers, "I don't want you to leave."

The room spun around Ginny. She spent many a sleepless night pondering what his reaction would be like, and to tell the truth, she hoped that he would not let her leave, although that seemed almost impossible.

"I cannot stop you," Draco's voice acquired a certain sound of defeat and desperation. "But you are not a burden. I am sorry for how I treated you these past weeks…" Draco thought that the apology would be painful, that his ego would hurt afterwards, but on the contrary, he felt better.

Ginny could not believe her ears. Was it the same proud Draco Malfoy that was now almost kneeling in front of her by the hearth and apologizing for his past deeds?

"Draco," it was the first time she used his given name to address him, and it gave him hope, "It's my fault. I shouldn't have slapped you on that train station. I was just so worried and then I didn't know how to apologize, and-" that's when Ginny broke into sobs that she kept buried inside her chest since the time she cried on his shoulder in Azkaban.

But unlike back then, Draco did not hesitate to take her into his arms as she cried.

"Oh, Ginny, why did you attack him?" Draco sighed once she calmed down a bit.

"I already told you," she said, looking at him with her tears shining in her eyes. "I did not want to be with him. He is going to ruin our world, and I was ready to die after killing him."

"But the deed was unfinished," Draco pointed out. "You did not kill him. There was no reason for you to die."

"I was sentenced to death for what I attempted to do," Ginny explained. "Even if I failed, it was the intention that got me the punishment."

"I couldn't have let you die," Draco murmured as she snuggled closer to him.

"I know," Ginny agreed, finally feeling safe in his arms. It seemed that all wrongs were forgiven and that everything bad was behind them. The two of them fell asleep together in front of the hearth where they were found in the morning by Crabbe who was slightly surprised at the change in Ms. Amelia's hair.

* * *

"Are you sure that this is a good idea?" Ginny asked Draco as they were about to enter the theatre in Diagon Alley together.

"Yes, I am absolutely certain," he replied impatiently for she had asked him the same question about fifty times before they departed from the mansion and a few more times after.

"What if someone recognizes me?" Ginny inquired in whisper.

"They will not," Draco replied tiredly, pulling her towards the door.

The two of them entered the dining-theatre in Diagon Alley, and it can be said with an amount of certainty that many heads turned to take a better look at the woman on Draco Malfoy's arm. She was wearing a black dress that contrasted with her now-blonde hair nicely. It hung from her shoulders on spaghetti straps, coming down just bellow her knees. Draco liked it especially, for it hung to her curves fabulously. After Draco made peace with Ginny, the latter was striving. She regained some of her weight from before Azkaban, and her overall joyful nature appeared to be coming back. The night at the theatre, she was radiant, if rather nervous. He, himself, was wearing black, fitted robes to match her and he got quite a few appreciative looks as well.

Since their reconciliation by the fireplace, Draco and Ginny entered a new phase in their relationship. Much to the other family members' delight, the two of them appeared happier and more content. The whole atmosphere in the Manor changed as they started spending more time together, and exploring the reasons for the mutual attraction. Sometimes they would go flying, or play chess or just talk, and Narcissa and Pansy watched them closely, also glad that Draco became more stabilized and started to relax rather than working long hours at the office.

But today was special. It's been two months since Ginny's rescue and one month since their reconcilement. They were not 'officially dating' as they avoided giving a name to what was between them, but at the very least, they were friends.

As they made their way to sit down at the reserved table for two, Ginny caught a pair of light blue eyes looking at her wonderingly. Remembering what Narcissa told her about this sort of situations, Ginny stared blankly back for a few seconds. She might have held the stranger's gaze longer, had it not been for the fact that the clear blue eyes were paired up with a head of flaming red hair. Ginny nearly stumbled as she realized that Percy Weasley was sitting at one of the tables with his wife Penelope. No, she certainly was not ready for this.

Draco sensing her tension, followed her eyes, and quickly figured out what the matter really was. He steadied her quickly and led her to the table he had reserved a week ago. They walked automatically, their minds on the same thing: 'Did Percy recognize her?'

The question heaved on their minds all night long. Draco and Ginny ate mechanically and watched _No Exit_ as it was being performed on the stage. The implications and consequences of Percy recognizing her, loomed over them, and even though it seemed that their attention was on the play, in their minds they both were analyzing the situation.

Draco was also kind of mad at the Weasley (he never bothered to figure out which is which) for ruining such a promising evening. At the manor, before they left, Ginny was excited about going out, and he was overjoyed to comply with her wishes. Of course, she was afraid that they would recognize her, but neither of them expected one of her brothers to be there. On top of everything, for the last couple of weeks it felt as if Ginny was forgetting about what she'd been through, but now that was destroyed as well.

The play dragged on and on. In fact, it could not have been longer than an hour, but in their minds it took millennium for the actors to take their bows. Finally, they did. That was when Draco grabbed Ginny's hand, hoping to leave early to avoid any likely encounters that may end badly. The two of them rushed out of the theatre-dining room, and were almost at the cloak rack when a familiar voice interrupted them:

"Oi! Draco!"

Draco turned around to see his boss and his wife coming forward, following them from the dining room.

"Jim," Draco said coolly, hoping that the man would get the hint. He did not.

Jim and his wife came closer, smiling brightly at them, and the door behind them opened as the other attendees were about to take their leave as well.

"You remember my wife, Mary, don't you?" Jim introduced his companion, suggesting to Draco that he should do the same.

"Yes, of course," Draco nodded, forcing the smirk on his lips to appear as a smile. "This is my cousin, Amelia Malfoy."

Ginny smiled uncertainly, and Jim and his wife shook her hand.

There was a pause, and Draco decided to use it for escape:

"Well, we are kind of in a hurry…" he begun, but never got to finish.

"Percy! Penelope! Over here!" Jim, oblivious to Draco's most honest desire to leave, called to the Weasleys.

"You cannot leave," Mary interjected. "Jim had been trying to get your attention all night long. Mr. Weasley is such an important guest."

Draco felt Ginny next to him tense even more.

"Is he?" Draco muttered.

"Of course," Jim rejoined the conversation now that Penelope and Percy were slowly making their way towards them. "Mr. Weasley was dying to meet you."

Draco's faintly raised one eyebrow.

"Seeing as you were Ginny Weasley's advocate," Jim continued to explain. "She was his sister, you know. He was interested in meeting you since I mentioned that you worked for me."

"Ah, I see," Draco felt trapped. Probably not as trapped as Ginny, but trapped nonetheless.

"Mr. and Mrs. Weasley," Jim motioned to them as they finally made it over, "This is Mr. Draco Malfoy and his cousin, Amelia Malfoy."

Penelope shook her hands with both of them, and Percy followed the manner. Ginny felt lifeless as her brother shook her hand. She watched him closely for any sign of recognition as he held her small hand in his palm. He gave her a slight, polite smile before letting go off her hand. Wait, was it just her, or did he hold her hand a little longer than it was necessary?

Draco, who was watching the exchange closely, while small-talking with Jim, Mary and Penelope, relaxed a little for it appeared evident that Percy did not realize who Ginny was.

And then, when Ginny too thought that she was out of danger, something she thought to be a new thought flashed in Percy's eyes, making them shine brighter. He squeezed Ginny's hand that was still lying in his palm, for she was too taken with the course of events that she forgot to take it away, while looking at her with those strangely shining eyes. And then he spoke:

"Ms. Malfoy, have we met before?"

* * *

Thanks to the everyone who's bothered to read this! And now to the reviews:

fwakes47- He kinda did show her, huh? Well, here is the update ;)

PinkMusicalCherry- People make mistakes... the Weasleys too

AAMRNluver16- They are all confused about who they are with on this. I mean, on one hand it;s their daughter, and on the other, it's their friend. Not an easy choice...

Dracoginnylover24- Thanks!! Hope you liked this chapter too.

miss devil's kiss- So you see Ginny as a blonde? Hehe

Alexandria J. Malfoy- Yes, I suppose it does get kinda fluffy

lakewater- I LOVE Pansy. She is like my favorite Slyherin... hehe

writerchick1- So? Did he 'fix' it the right way?

koolgirl1993- I think you'll have to wait for Pansy's story. It's coming up way later on.

dristi- How's the suspense now? ;)

gineveramalfoy1894- Yup, Draco is in love. And so is Ginny. They are bound to be rather silly xD


	13. Chapter 13

A/N: I am so sorry that it took me so long to update! I swear that I did not mean to abandon this fic, but my life got so hectic that I simply did not have the time to write, and then I went through a writer's block and I didn't know how to not make it crappy and then I didn't have time again. And then I felt really bad for not updating so I wanted to make this chapter worthwhile (I hope I succeeded in this respect, but not up to me to judge). Now that school is mostly over from me, I promise to update a lot again (about once a week hopefully). Thank you so much for still reading this fic (to whoever is still patient enough!). Reviews addressed at the bottom as usual.

Disclaimer: Belongs to JKR, we know, we know

* * *

Narcissa looked at the door with expectation, then back at the clock and then down to read a paragraph from the book that she was reading. The very second Narcissa looked down, Pansy looked up at the door, then at the clock and then she, too, resumed reading the medical journal in her lap. Two women, who were sitting in the Malfoy elegant drawing room, were not talking. In fact, they were avoiding as much as looking at each other, and the cause of this was by no means some internal struggle between them. More often than not, they got along quite well, though Narcissa has long given up the hope that Pansy might become her daughter-in-law some day. No, the atmosphere in the drawing room was not filled with anger or bottled up irritation; it was parched with anxiousness and expectation. They were late.

The two witches were both worried for similar reasons. The wizard in question was dear to both of them, although one viewed him as a son and the other as a brother. With the witch who was accompanying him, it was a more complicated relationship. Narcissa enjoyed spending time with her newly acquired niece, "Amelia", and she was happy about what she saw blooming between her son and Harry Potter's ex-wife. The social effects of this did not affect her anymore, there was hardly a 'society' to speak of, and she wished nothing but to see her son happy, and if she brought him happiness, then so be it. Yet, though, she worried about the young, unofficial couple, because she foresaw that her happiness was fragile, and could be easily broken by the outside forces as well as a single misstep on the inside.

Pansy, on the other hand, still regarded Ginny with a doubtful attitude. The older witch was probing her, testing her to see if she was good enough for Draco, but she was not doing it out of dislike. She wished nothing more than to see Draco happy again, and if Ginny was the only way, she was fine with it. She liked Ginny as a person, and they had a few interesting conversations in the course of the past two months, but Pansy despised what the younger witch stood for, and whom she reminded her of. She needed to protect Ginny, like she would have protected _him,_ but Ginny served as an ever-lasting, ever-present, and ever-painful aide memoire of her greatest mistake, and hence while she enjoyed the Weasley's company, she loathed it at the same time. She liked to talk to her, because she made her remember him, the orange hair, the tall and lanky body build, and even similar expressions though they were not quite the same. She hated herself for making that mistake back then, but she craved the presence of something, anything, that was even a little bit like him.

_One great mistake later, and here she was, alone and practically homeless living as a long-term guest of her best friend_, Pansy thought bitterly to herself. After her testimony on behalf of Ginny, she was fired from work on the grounds of "questionable usage of the knowledge acquired" though it was clear that it was done for political reasons. She thought that she has hit the bottom when her family was locked away in Azkaban when the great Harry Potter finally killed Lord Voldemort, and when all their property was taken away. She, a witch of barely 18, was left alone in a world that did not want her because of her blood and last name. She decided that becoming a healer would provide her with a substantial amount of money to support the lifestyle she was forced to choose, and thus Pansy enrolled herself as an intern at St. Mungo's and worked long hours to afford her apartment, education and bills. But she pulled through; she gained her degree, a suitable place to live and a good job. For a while she even thought that she finally found the one true love, and that maybe, just maybe, she'd have one last shot at happiness. One mistake, for which she could blame no one but herself, brought the end of that. He was gone from her life, fleeing as fast as he could, and in all honesty, she could not blame him, and her life went down the drain from there. When she lost him, for a long time, she went through a phase of apathy. Sure, she did her best to survive, but the elasticity of youth, and the ability to hope for a better tomorrow was securely cured from her nature. And then Draco asked her to do her job, she did and she lost that too. It's not like she was feeling sorry for herself, or mopping around- that was not her style, but she's hit the lowest low, and had no idea where to go from there.

Narcissa and Pansy kept their door-clock-journal/book routine cycling for almost an hour before the 'pop's of apparation in the foyer finally brought the much-needed relief. It was the amazing, aristocratic self-control that kept the two witches down on the couches, for they felt the very same urge to leap up and greet the newcomers. They both listened with their ears pricked, both with their eyes plastered on the pages of their books and pretending that they did not notice anything. But the lack of laughter or conversation had the same effect on both of them, and Pansy expressed it by shifting uncomfortably.

At last, the door to the drawing room opened, and lightly-flushed Ginny entered followed by Draco who was curtly holding the door for her. They did not appear to be in a bad mood which gave Narcissa and Pansy hope that they might have worried for no reason.

"Good evening," Narcissa said pleasantly, and Ginny and Draco sat down next to each other on the remaining couch.

"Hullo Mother, Pansy," Draco replied, and Ginny added: "Good evening to you too, Narcissa. To you too, Pansy."

"So? How did it go?" Pansy asked, unable to contain herself any longer, which cost her a disapproving look from the matron of the house.

"At first, no one recognized us. It seemed to be going all great…" Draco begun, telling them about their evening and about the play they saw.

"…we were just leaving," Ginny finished Draco's story as he went to pour himself a glass of Firewhiskey, "I had my cloak on, and we were walking away from the theatre towards the exit. We even left a bit early so that we don't draw too much attention to us or that we don't bump into someone we know."

"And, then, just when we were about to leave, when Jim Carrison started chasing after us, dragging his wife and two guests after him," Draco paused dramatically. "His two guests: Penelope and Percy Weasley."

Narcissa's face betrayed pure shock and horror. They were okay, of course, they must have been okay, but how did they get out of that one? Pansy, on the other hand, was pale, watching Draco's face with eyes that seemed to be glazed over. She was surprised, too.

"Jim acted as if nothing was wrong, and as if he was introducing me and Ginny to an old friend. I know that he is hoping to get the Secretary to be one of his 'allies', but there was no need to involve us," Draco fussed.

"And? What happened with the Weasley? Did they…?" Pansy had no need to finish her question.

"No," Ginny cut Draco off before he had a chance to find a way out of a direct question. "Draco froze," she said with a smile, "when Percy asked if he knew me from somewhere, and I must say, I was a bit worried myself."

"But then she saved us," Draco filled in, taking the word back. "I knew that I didn't waste my time rescuing her from Azkaban. She is a smart, that she is."

Ginny blushed a deeper shade of red when he praised her. She did not feel any need to jump in, mostly because she did not want to seem to be bragging. Fine, so she did find a way out of a horrible situation, but so what? They were the ones who saved her, and the least she could do is contribute to their insane plan of keeping her alive by not giving it away.

"She told him, in French, mind you, that she had no idea if she's met him before, but this was her first time in England, and she politely asked if he has traveled to France before. He said he has, and so she told him that she worked as a secretary for one of the French Department heads. It was bloody brilliant!"

"Draco, language!" Narcissa pursed her lips in displeasure at her son's form of expression.

"I vaguely remembered Fred and George making fun of Percy for mentioning some French secretary whom he saw a long time ago."

"It seems that it is getting rather late," Narcissa remarked, feeling that her retirement would signal for Pansy to leave as well and give the two some more time alone. "I will see you all in the morning," and with that, the slender witch retired to her chambers.

"Good thinking," Pansy who seemed to have recovered from the shock told Ginny with a light smile. "Draco is often socially dysfunctional; it's great that there was someone to save him this time."

"That was completely uncalled for, Pansy, dear," Draco said sweetly. "If I remember correctly, it was you who showed up at the Nott garden party wearing a bowl of real fruit on your head, darling. It was the most unattractive thing I have seen in my life."

"I doubt that," Ginny muttered, immediately regretting it as the memory stung her. "At least you have not seen what Harry sleeps in…"

"What was that?" Pansy raised her eyebrows in question and Draco, too, looked at Ginny with wonder.

"Are you referring to a certain wondrous piece of leopard-print briefs Mr. Potter owns, by any chance?" a familiar drawl was heard from the fireplace, nonetheless Ginny was startled at it, much like Draco and Pansy, though their cold, emotionless facades did not let it show.

"Zabini, are you trying to give her a heart attack?" Draco frowned at the head of his best friend that was presently floating in the fireplace. "We just rescued her. I would rather not waste that time and effort on nothing."

"Not at all," Blaise smiled lazily. "Luna and I simply wanted to know if our favorite pair of 'cousins' had fun tonight."

"It almost blew in their face, Zabini," Pansy replied. "They were miraculously saved by chance herself. And Ginevra's quick thinking. Now, care to explain your recent statement concerning certain pajamas?"

"Curious, are we, dear?" Blaise chuckled lightly as Ginny's face grew redder. "I only know what my dear wife told me, and I am not sure if it is confidential information, or not…" his eyes were asking Ginny for permission, and she grinned back in agreement.

The memory might be painful to her, but she decided that she cannot live in a dream bubble for the rest of her life. Besides, everyone here knew about her past, and what they did not know, they have guessed.

"It is quite a story, and I would rather not tell it kneeling in front of my fireplace. Draco…?"

"Would you like to come over or something, Zabini?"

"Why, thank you, Mr. Malfoy, I would love to apparate in!" Blaise flashed them a smile and his head disappeared from the fireplace. They heard a pop in the foyer, and Blaise entered the library to join them.

"So, as I was saying," Blaise picked up where he left off. "I heard by the word of mouth about Mr. Potter's night time lingerie…"

Without realizing it, Ginny smirked at his choice of words in a very Slytherin-like fashion.

"…how do I put this…" Blaise paused, touching his long, slender fingers to his lips, "Mr. Potter, according to my sources, likes to sleep in certain leopard-print thong-briefs that, how do you say, _roar_, if Mr. Potter, gets, ah, aroused."

At that, Pansy and Draco burst out laughing. It was a rare thing for them to lose control like that, making it all the more interesting to Ginny who was laughing along side them, though she was the one only one in the room who had the pleasure to be traumatized by the sight of the said briefs.

"Now, having established that Gryffindors, no offense intended, my dear," he turned to Ginny," have horrible taste in bed-wear, may I inquire about your evening out, Mr. and Ms. Malfoy?" Blaise asked once they quieted down a little.

Draco and Ginny retold the story of their evening, and Blaise proved to be wonderful audience. Unlike Narcissa and Pansy he did not interrupt them, though, he, perhaps, more than them, realized the magnitude of the situation and what exactly it would mean if Percy Weasley did, in fact, realize Ginny's true identity. Once the story had been retold, Blaise stayed for a little bit longer, chatting amiably to Pansy, Draco and Ginny as he passed on Luna and his invitation for lunch at their home for the next day.

"A word before I leave, Draco, if you may," Draco's grey eyes met Blaise's brown ones and a moment of mutual understanding passed between them.

"Of course," Draco said courtly, "I will be back momentarily." He got up and left with Blaise in the direction of his study. Pansy looked after them knowingly, which did not escape Ginny who gave her a puzzled look.

The two witches sat in an awkward silence for a few moments. Neither knew what to talk about to the other, for they were neither friends nor enemies at this point. They were stuck aboard the same ship, but for completely different reasons.

"He really does care about you," Pansy remarked hesitantly, looking in the direction of Draco's study, for she wanted to break the silence.

"Hm…" Ginny murmured, surprised as well as pleased by that statement. "I guess you are right, though I cannot understand why he would."

"You are not expected to," Pansy snorted. "When you are in love, you are not expected to know why you are in love or loved. When you do know why you are loved, then you know that it's over."

Once again, Ginny wondered about Pansy's motives. This was definitely not what she would expect from Pansy Parkinson, the cold, heartless beautiful Slytherin who was known to use her vices to her benefits. But here she was, Pansy Parkinson talking about love almost as if from personal experience.

"I do care about him," Ginny said, partly because she knew not what else to say, and partly because it seemed that Pansy's previous statement about Draco caring for her had not been redeemed in its value.

"That is more than clear," Pansy snorted again. "Don't worry, not to him, of course, but to the rest of us."

Ginny was starting to get highly uncomfortable with what and how much the slippery witch that engaged her in conversation knew.

"Oh…"

"Loosen up, Weasley, I don't bite," Pansy scolded her, with light of mischief playing in her dark-blue eyes as Ginny's discomfort reflected on her face. "I honestly don't know how you could have lied to your brother when you cannot keep your face from showing every bit of emotion."

"I do not appreciate being called obvious," Ginny replied through gritted teeth. "Especially not coming from you."

"Touché," Pansy recoiled with a smirk. "I am just trying to help. It's not going to do if you keep walking around with your heart on your sleeve."

"Ah, Parkinson, you should know that I do not do that," at that, Pansy's smirk widened, "In fact, I am rather good at hiding my emotions. For one, no one knew that I hated Harry up until--"

"You stabbed him?" Pansy suggested sarcastically, but then she grew more serious. "Look, I am not trying to insult you, Weasley, but if you want to survive, you have to wear a mask. It's one thing to a hide a deep hatred within yourself when no one is looking for it and a whole another to conceal your identity from people that knew you intimately, and even worse, from those who are waiting for you to make a mistake that may lead to our destruction."

The words boomed in Ginny's ears, beating on her eardrums, causing fear to emerge and show its ugly face. Someone was trying to find her? But they thought her dead… what was Pansy talking about?

"No, Weasley, it's not just your family. It's the aurors, the ministry workers and even the private folks that are looking. The story of your death was convincing, but not too convincing, and there are still the ones who doubt that you are dead." Ginny spastically searched for an indication that this was a joke, but Pansy's jaw was set, and she was serious.

"And let's not forget that the Malfoy house has its enemies as well. You being his long lost cousin may fly for now, but they are waiting, waiting and observing you from afar. Tonight was almost fatal, you did well, but we must stay on our toes if we want to pull this off."

"But, but Draco…?" Ginny stuttered.

"Draco knows that what he did was risky," Pansy responded swiftly. "But that was not going to stop him. He is also in love, and hence he is foolish. And of course, he has his _cause_."

"His cause?"

"Yup," Pansy nodded. "He has certain reasons for which he disag—"

She was interrupted by an incessant pecking on the glass window. Pansy got up, not bothering to finish her sentence and opened the window, letting a magnificent brown owl fly in and drop a letter in her outstretched hand. She opened it, skimmed it quickly and smiled.

"It's from Oliver Wood," Pansy explained, sensing the question that loomed on Ginny's mind. "I am sure you remember him. He was at Hogwarts with us, and he plays international Quidditch right now."

"Oh, of course," Ginny's eyes sparkled, for she remembered Oliver Wood, a good friend of the family, and an old crush of her school years. "He was the Gryffindor Quidditch captain." She added off-handedly, because in reality, there were more important things on her mind. Like her conversation with Pansy.

"You like Quidditch, don't ya?" Pansy inquired, a plan forming in her mind.

"Yes…" Ginny concurred uncertainly, wondering one last time what was Pansy thinking.

"Well, how would you like to come to Oliver's next Quidditch match with me? I am not too interested in those things, and it will project a good image on the society. Besides, you need to get out more."

"Didn't you just say that I have to lay low?"

"Well- yes, but you cannot spend your whole life inside Draco's house," Pansy contradicted herself in her fever to uh, 'do the right thing'. "I said that you need to be more careful of how you express yourself in public, but this will be an ample opportunity for you to practice being an icicle."

"Alright then," Ginny consented with Pansy's newest mood swing that kind of turned the whole situation around. Part of her longed to watch a Quidditch match again, but a much bigger part was excited at the prospect of seeing at least some of her family or old friends in the audience. Yeah, seeing them would be enough.

"I must write back immediately," Pansy said once she obtained Ginny's assent. "Good night, Weasley."

And with that, she was gone from the library, leaving Ginny alone with her scattered thoughts.

She thought that Pansy was at the best a peculiar person, one easily swayed by her own mood swings. On one hand, she was advising her to hide from everyone, and then she wanted to display her at a Quidditch game. But Pansy was the least of her concerns.

Ginny decided to wait for Draco in the library, because she wanted to speak to him again tonight. She listened to see if she could overhear any part of the conversation he was having with Blaise across the hall, which would indicate if they would be done soon. She was surprised to hear not only Blaise and Draco's voice, but other voices as well, and that seemed a bit odd. Was Pansy right, and was there really something going on? Was she somehow at the center of whatever 'cause' was budding? Her conversation with Pansy led to her realize that maybe in her own fear of being discovered, and worse, causing Draco and his friends to lose their lives as well, Ginny was less than observant. It seemed that Pansy was right; she must pay more attention from now on.

Following this new resolve, Ginny tried to spend the next few minutes listening to the angry overlapping voices coming from Draco's study and attempting to distinguish between them, but this effort proved futile. She wasn't sure if it was a charm placed on the study, or if it was her own lack of energy, but she was not able to hear one word. And she was getting kind of sleepy. Yet, she did not want to sleep. She wanted to stay awake, for she needed to think, to spend some serious alone time trying to figure out her new life. But the study was so warm, the couch she was sitting on so comfy- Ginny shook her head in attempt to wake herself, and then made up her mind to go outside. Some fresh air would not only wake her up, but also give some clarity to her thoughts.

* * *

The light night breeze played with Ginny's hair, which was scarlet again, for she was at "home". "Home"- what a weird word it was, she mulled to herself, a long time ago, she used to associate "Burrow" with the promise of warmth, and refuge from all the evils. In the early days of her marriage to Harry, she hoped that they together could create a home-a hope wasted when she realized that Harry will never be there long enough to create a home with her. Not to mention the fact that he simply did not care. And thus, the last couple years, Ginny was virtually "homeless, Burrow ceased to be what she would call "home" partly because of how the family had changed, and partly because there was no place that was saved exclusively for her. Now it was "her and Harry" who came visit, or "her and Harry" who would return to the mansion Harry bought for them. There was no more "Ginny" who could roam free or who could just hide away in her room when the world mistreated her.

It was different since Draco rescued her from Azkaban. The big house, hardly a mansion for the comparably small size, became her refuge. She was literally hiding here from the world, but at the same time, her opinions counted and her presence mattered. Narcissa would ask her when they picked out clothes, and even Pansy would be polite when she asked her to pass the salt at dinner. Draco, Draco was another matter. He made her staying alive worthwhile. She was not sure what their relationship was, but she liked that there was a relationship. She knew that for some odd reason he cared about her, why else would he rescue her? But at the same time, after so many years of being alone, it seemed almost impossible to her that someone would care again about the little Ginny Weasley. Draco, was in that sense, special, if only to her.

She sat down, hugging her knees close to her body, because early March nights are more than chilly. She wanted to stay outside despite the cold and watch the starry sky a little longer. She did not want to think, she wanted to lose herself in the cold night, to gain some peace and to relax.

That's how Draco found her; sitting all alone on the terrace in what seemed like a cold winter storm to him. Yet, he walked outside and sat down on the step next to her.

She heard him coming, familiar with the sound of his footsteps as she was, but did not care to turn around to acknowledge him, though she did enjoy the warm body sitting next to her. For a while, they sat in silence, almost as if neither wanted to break the magic of the moment.

"Trying to freeze to death, Weasley?" Draco muttered.

"The night is beautiful, isn't it?" Ginny ignored his remark, flipping her hair to the side.

"If you want to freeze your arse off, yeah," Draco agreed with bitter sarcasm which Ginny continued to ignore. There really was no other way to deal with him.

"I don't know, but when you look at the sky," Ginny paused, "It seems that the starry heavens give you a perspective. A possibility that maybe our lives don't really matter, that maybe in the larger picture, we are just a dot of light somewhere in space…" Ginny's voice faded out, and Draco watched with wonder how the stars reflected in her eyes.

"The cold is getting to your head, Weasley," Draco commented dryly, though he inwardly did agree with what she said.

Ginny turned to him suddenly:

"I wanted to thank you for tonight- for, for everything," Ginny stuttered, out of sudden it seemed imperial that he'd understand what she meant.

Draco was a bit taken by the gratitude, but instead of saying anything, he simply put his arm around Ginny, hugging her close to him.

"And what a night it was, hm?" he muttered in her hair.

"Yeah," Ginny agreed, still being able to feel the adrenaline in her blood. "I really thought that he recognized me."

"Me too," Draco nodded, breathing in the smell of her shampoo. "I am not sure what I would have done if he really did. Maybe apparate us both out or something. Change your appearance again. Move to a foreign country…"

"Do you think that one day we might have to do that?" Ginny asked. "Move to a foreign country, I mean."

"I find England more than suitable," Draco objected lightly, though he was rather pleased that she used 'we' instead of 'I'. "Hopefully, we won't have to move, but it may be easier for us to relocate somewhere where people don't know us. At the same time, I don't want to run away from my past deeds. I did not run before, when I should have, and I don't want to run now," Draco's jaw was set, indicating his resolve.

"I understand," Ginny nodded. "It is better to stay and fight. Running away is like giving in, telling them that they are stronger than you."

"Running away can be good sometimes, like eloping," Draco joked to lighten the mood. "Or to get away from a bad situation, but to run away from one's responsibilities is childish."

Ginny did not reply immediately, she just smiled. The man that was holding her was so much different than Harry who would always find someone to blame for whatever went wrong. He was not his old self either; the little bully who annoyed everyone he could at school and blamed everything on everyone. Hell, he was different than any reckless man who would be courageous to the max. This older Draco was… selectively brave, and that was what was special about him.

"Gin, let's go inside," Draco suggested, feeling her icy fingers. "You really _are_ freezing, love."

Ginny obeyed, because all in truth, she was cold, and they returned inside, hand in hand.

* * *

A/N: Alright, the next update should be ready by the end of June, I have it all planned out so I just need to write it. It should be long-ish, and I shall do my best to make it interesting. Thanks for reading!

Reviews:

lakewater- yup, the plot shall thicken some more in the next few chapters. Thanks for the review :)

Grabeels Girl- I shall take a look, and I did update... just took me sometime. Thank you for reviewing.

Miss Devil's kiss- no, but he got close, no? The suspense was a bit longer than I intended it to be (4 months... is ashamed).

PinkMusicalCherry- he did not really. But he has his suspicions hehe

DracoGinnylover24- I actually used what you said in this chapter. It gave me the idea for the conversation outside. Thanks so much for reviewing

Comet Moon- Why, thank you.

GoodGirlzDead- Ginny was ready. She was just anxious about the whole thing, and you can't expect he to spend months in Draco's house. It's not very Ginny-like, is it? Thanks for the review!

ShortySC22- This update took me sometime... sorry. Thanks for the review though!

youngwriter56- WOW, this was like the most amazing review I ever got. Thank you so much for your compliments (albeit undeserved, doubly so, since I took 4 months to update .)

fwakes47- this was a mostly cliff-hanger free chapter. There are more cliff-hangers to come over the summer, I promise. Thanks for the review.

GoOd-BaDz2- no, he doesn't! Ginny saved! I couldn't let him find out, could I? Hehe, thanks for the review

hippolina97- yeah, Evanescence does combine well with this fic. So does Breakin' Benjamin and Three Days' Grace. And some Linkin' Park. Thanks for reviewing!

flamingbunnies- yay! Thanks for reading it, and of course, the wonderful review.

gineveramalfoy1894- poor Percy, if he knew how much concern he caused... Heh, it's all good, they are sound and save up until... the chapter after next, I think. Hehe, thanks for the review

LauraZabini- thanks for the 100th review! I finally did update, but it took me about two light ages to do it. My updates are usually not this sporadic, I swear.

* * *


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N:** Again, this update took me longer than I wanted it! I promise to update more often. Promise. Promise. Promise. I feel horrible for taking forever again, but this is the new update. I have three pretty believable excuses though: my summer job takes up lot of time, I went through another little writer's block again, and I was busy thinking up plots for two other fanfics that I shall post at some point in near future (one is gonna be about Bella, the other is gonna be about Pansy). Also, having a life takes up lot of time . If you are still reading this painfully long, horribly written fanfic, thank you! I promies to be a better author and update way more often. Enough of this rant though, I just wanted to apologize hehe

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing.

* * *

Fleur Weasley was laying in the standard wooden St. Mungo's bed, looking exhausted. After what turned out to be an 8-hour childbirth section, she had every right to feel tired. She gave birth to a baby girl who inherited her mother's startling beauty and her father's brown eyes. It was all nice and good, only if she was not so tired… and how much she wanted to sleep…

Fleur forced her eyes open. She could not sleep quite yet. She saw the inevitable coming in in the form of the long line of redheads that were slowly defeating the mediwizards that tried to stop them as they made it to her bed and Guinevere's crib.

"Ah, she is beautiful!" Mr. Weasley was the first one to exclaim, and Mrs. Weasley smacked him with her purse.

"Arthur, they need to rest, don't be so loud," she reminded him rather loudly herself.

"Not bad, bro," Ron commented as he looked into the crib to the grinning Bill.

"Yeah, could have been worse. Like Victoire…" George reprimanded him jokingly.

"I agree, brother dearest," Fred joined in. "She cannot talk yet."

"And thank goodness for that," Charlie quipped in.

"Ignore them, Bill," Percy said amused. "They are just jealous of your wife and daughter."

Bill received the compliments and remarks with a smile, whatever they were. He was glad that his wife and new daughter made it and all was good. Fleur, who was secretly wishing that these English idiots had a sense of propriety and would leave her to sleep, was smiling gratefully as well, but no speaking.

This gave her an ample opportunity to observe, and she remarked to herself that in her absence, for she was in the hospital for about two weeks before giving birth, that they seemed older, more grief-stricken. They put on a good show, but Ginny's sudden death left an incurable wound in their hearts and it tore them apart. Usually, if in this particular mood, Fleur would flee back to her own pain, and savor it, cry bitter tears over the dreadfulness of the situation. But today, she was simply too tired, and that gave her a new perspective. She saw their grief clearly, her vision not being clouded by her own sadness, and she realized that they would never be the same ever again. Not without Ginny. Suddenly, she wanted to see her sister-in-law to be there, sitting by her bedside, joking with her brothers and smiling at her new niece. Fleur did not understand any of it, except that it was all horribly wrong, why or how it got like that she did not know, nor she knew how to fix it, but she was sure that everything was wrong one way or another.

Eventually, the family dispersed, some of them back to work, others home to cook dinner and take care of the children, and so she was left alone with Bill. Her husband gave her a lopsided grin, leaned closer and kissed her.

"Sorry about that," he whispered, pulling away a little. "There was no way of stopping them."

"It's okay, Bill," Fleur muttered tiredly, closing her eyes. "I just want to sleep."

"Of course, love," he gave her one more soft kiss, and moved away. "I will be waiting right here."

"Okay, Bill," Fleur forced herself to say. "I will be fine if you go to work, you know."

"I will be here," Bill said somewhat stubbornly.

"Okay, Bill," Fleur said tiredly.

"Sweet dreams, love," he whispered softly, and Fleur, had she any energy left, would have scolded him for talking.

"Okay, Bill," Fleur whispered again.

"Oh! I almost forgot!" Bill exclaimed, reaching inside his coat.

"Bill…" Fleur started to frown, expecting some after-labor gift from him that could really wait until after she slept for weeks.

"This came for you while you were in the hospital," he handed her an unceremonious package wrapped in brown paper without any tags.

Fleur took it in her hand, and knowing that the curiosity of her husband would not be satisfied until she opened it, she tore the brown paper off. On the bed fell out a silver rattle for the baby and folded note. Fleur smiled at him, showing him the rattle though she quickly concealed the parchment under her pillow:

"See? No curses or poisons."

"Do you know who it's from?"

"Yes," Fleur lied quickly, having a strong feeling about where it came from. "An old friend of mine sent it."

"Do I know them?"

"Bill, please," Fleur felt her anger throbbing within her, slowly poking even through her exhaustion. "I want to sleep."

"Okay, okay," the Weasley cleared from the hospital room as fast as possible, fearing for his life because there was no way of telling what Fleur would and would not do when she spoke in that stern voice. And of course, he wanted to let her rest.

Once alone, Fleur gave the rattle to the child in the crib next to her bed, and took the parchment from under her pillow. It was a twice folded note with only three words written on it in black ink in familiar handwriting:

"_I am safe_."

A wave of happiness swept over Fleur. Ginny was safe. It all would be well!

* * *

The morning following Draco and Ginny's 'date', Ginny woke up earlier than usual. It might have been around five o'clock when she sat up in her bed as if startled by a nightmare. But it was no nightmare that woke her up this morning, though she had many reasons for scary dreams, and there was a soft smile on her face as she got up from her bed. Her dream, finally, brought the closure from her past that she needed so badly. She made her way to the bathroom and went through her typical morning routine before she returned to her bedroom and curled up in her window seat.

Ginny didn't use to remember her dreams. Just as any other witch or wizard, she did remember the nightmares, but she rarely remembered the good dreams when she was content. There is no need to remember the dreamed up life if her real life is amazing as it is, right? But tonight was different; Ginny's subconscious sent her a straightforward message. She dreamed that she was standing on an open plain, nothing around here. It felt as if she was running, but she stopped for she finally found a safe refuge. That was all.

She woke up with the feeling of safety and happiness, and the meaning of the dream was easy to translate. Life gave her a new chance, a chance she probably did not deserve given her past deeds, but a new shot at happiness and a new reason why to live. As she watched the sun rise higher and higher, the early sunrise heralding the beginning of the summer, Ginny finally found the strength to face her demons.

The fact that she tried to kill her husband was a strain on her conscience, something that went so strongly against her morals that she could barely justify it. It was a moment of temporary insanity that had been building up for years. It was not only because she was forgotten and overlooked. It was because she truly did hate Harry. All those times when he would go out with Ron and Hermione when they were just dating, and then all those times when he stayed at Ron and Hermione's playing with their children rather than trying to start a family with her. The crawling suspicions that he has been cheating on her with different women in his Ministry department. The frustration when he would not even try to see things as she saw them. The disillusionment that followed when she realized how unalike they were when it came to opinions on mostly everything. The ever-growing gap between them, and then the final blow that send her flying over the edge.

It was nothing connected with romance between the two of them, for romance was long dead in the house that Harry bought them. One might think that if Harry cheated on her, or caused her to miscarry or just be the root of something tragic between them, that might be reason for Ginny to be violent. But that would be assuming that Ginny's very being was centered on love and romance and that was far from the truth. While Ginevra was passionate, she was also pragmatic, a combination that caused her to pass many of Harry Potter's short comings in silence. She was betrayed, but not as a lover, but as a person which was much worse. If you love and lose, you still have yourself. But if someone, over many years, tries to erase everything that makes you 'you', you get fed up, and in Ginny's case, you stab them with a kitchen knife. The trifle that was to be the last blow was rather trivial. The couple was supposed to go shopping for a birthday present for one of Ron and Hermione's children, and Harry came home late and with a present he picked out himself. Looking back, Ginny wondered why that made her so angry, but back then she did not care. It was the straw that broke the camel's back. The final drop in the already over-flowing cup. It demonstrated clearly how much Harry did not care for her opinion, or anyone else's for that matter, and that only hurt, but it made her so mad with anger that she could see red. And that's when she stabbed him.

Ginny relived those moments again this morning, but her eyes stayed dry. It was all long gone, and she had a new purpose. She had lost hope, had been broken, but now there were things to live for again. Draco needed her; maybe even loved her and she wanted to see how it would go. Of course, she feared all relationships because her relationship with Harry was such a mistake, but she decided that since she was forced to live again, she might just give it her best shot. It was a new dawn of a new day. Literally.

When the time for breakfast approached, Ginny came down from her room, and being the early bird, she got a-hold of the paper first. Generally, she would not be interested in learning about her ex-husband's newest achievements, but keeping Pansy's words in mind; she picked it up and skimmed through it as she drank some pumpkin juice. There was nothing that was especially eye-catching, just some boring things about political developments within their relations to other countries, some new Muggle treaty, an escaped Peruvian Vipertooth, a new regulation concerning House elves and some minor break-throughs in searching for some Muggle disease cures. Ginny was more confused than before; what did Pansy mean?

Narcissa was the next one who came down for breakfast, and she and Ginny were amiably chatting about some book they both read as Pansy joined them.

"Ready for Quidditch?" the dark-haired witch asked cheerfully, sitting down to eat a bowl of cereal and milk.

"Quidditch?" Narcissa's delicate eyebrows rose up.

"Yes," Pansy nodded, pausing to finish the spoon she just put in her mouth. "Oliver wants me to watch some Quidditch match in which he is playing and I am taking Ginny with us."

"Does Draco know about this?" Narcissa inquired, sipping her hot chocolate.

"Well…" Pansy paused again, but not because her mouth was full this time around.

"Know about what?" the one in question walked in, fastening his cloak, carrying his briefcase and grabbing his coffee mug.

"I invited Ginny to come and watch Quidditch with me this morning and she agreed," Pansy said slowly, taking great care to pick her words.

"Oh," Draco paused mid-stride. "Are you sure that's a good idea?"

"Yeah, maybe even better than what you did last night," Pansy replied defiantly. "Chances are that we won't bump into any of her relatives since none of them are professional Quidditch players and she needs to have some fun, not to mention interact with people that are not you."

"What if they recognize her?" Draco continued, not because he was too worried (Pansy did make some great points), but because his male ego was hurt because they did not think to consult him first.

"I will apparate us out or come up with an intricate lie," Pansy responded smoothly with a smug smile.

"Can you do it if there are aurors around?"

"Draco, this is a Quidditch match, not a Ministry visit," Pansy reminded him, giving him a look of disbelief.

"Fine, fine," Draco gave his consent sulkily. "But if they catch you and we all end up in Azkaban, it's your fault."

"That's completely fine with me," Pansy flashed him a grin. "You can even tell me 'I told you so' then."

"Whatever," Draco sulked some more. "I have to go to work. Bye."

Ginny was not sure why, but she held up her head, silently asking him to kiss her goodbye. Draco understood, gave her a soft kiss, and left the house with the taste of grapefruit that she was eating on his tongue.

"Oliver wanted me to be there by nine thirty," Pansy said casually once Draco was gone.

"Oh," Ginny acknowledged her words. "Who are they playing?"

"It's Puddlemere United against some team that goes by some weird name. Bees or bumblebees of Brimstone, something like that."

"Wimbourne Wasps?"

"Maybe," Pansy assented. "It was something like that."

"They are good," Ginny nodded. "It should be interesting."

"Yeah, sure…" Pansy concurred sarcastically. "That is, if you are into that kind of thing."

"If you hate Quidditch so much, why do you spend so much time watching it?" Ginny inquired conversationally.

"Because I date a Quidditch player," Pansy answered matter-of-factly, and Narcissa, who was listening in on the conversation, smirked in amusement.

"That's the only reason?" Ginny raised her eyebrows.

"Pretty much," Pansy smirked. "Well, I gotta go change, so we can leave by nine fifteen."

"Right, I shall do the same."

* * *

The Quidditch game was quite enjoyable to Ginny, though Pansy remained indifferent throughout the game. The Puddlemere United won, as was expected by Pansy but not by Ginny, and the team rejoiced. Pansy and Ginny were both sucked into the festivities, and Ginny passed through all the introductions without anyone recognizing her. Many complimented her good looks, some flirted with her, but none of her old Hogwarts schoolmate recognized her as Ginny Weasley. To them, she was just Draco Malfoy's French cousin, a friend of the girlfriend of one of their team mates, hence no one important.

Ginny did not stay for the party, but she departed soon after the game ended. Pansy told her to apparate herself home and that she and Oliver needed to talk before she met them at the Zabini's. They had about an hour before they had to meet Blaise and Luna for lunch, and Ginny needed to get ready as well as to meet Draco who decided to leave work early that day and join them at the Zabini manor.

When Pansy and Ginny apparated him, Ginny found Draco sitting alone in his study finishing up some things he had not done at work. When he saw her, he looked up and gave her a puzzled smile:

"You are back already?"

"Disappointed?" Ginny teased him lightly coming closer. He growled, and pulled her into his lap, turning her to kiss her.

"Not at all, love," he reinforced with kisses. "But where is Pansy?"

"Somewhere with Oliver," Ginny answered, noting that Draco's expression darkened.

"Why?"

"Well," Ginny begun. "They love each other, no?"

"No," Draco grunted. "What would make you say that?"

"You know, the way he looks at her and all," Ginny explained. "It's clear that he cares about her a lot."

"If you say so," Draco nodded, but is disbelief was still evident.

"What's so weird about that?" Ginny inquired. "Is it unnatural for Pansy to be in love?"

"Nothing, nothing," Draco said quickly.

"It's Pansy, isn't it?" Ginny questioned softly. "You still love her, don't you? And so you are worried about her?"

"_What_?" Draco's facial expression of disbelief made a comeback. "Ginny-wha-no! Pansy and I are friends. We have always been friends. We never were more than friends, really! Why would you think something like that? That's just ridiculous."

"Sorry," Ginny apologized sheepishly. "Then what is it?"

"Ginny," Draco paused. "Pansy, like the flower she is named for, can grow anywhere, but she won't thrive. She has been hurt in the past, and I don't want to see her hurt again."

"What happened?"

"It is not for me to say, Ginny," Draco said, "It's in the past, and it's her personal life. It's not for me to disclose."

"Right. I understand."

"And love, never assume things like that about me ever again, okay?" he asked with a playful grin though his dark grey eyes were serious.

"Okay," Ginny grinned back at him and went to take a shower before they ventured to the lunch at the Zabini's.

When Ginny returned, showed and dressed in a light blue skirt and a black blouse for the luncheon, she overheard heated voice talking quietly in Draco's study. Coming closer, she recognized the voices as belonging to Draco and Pansy who were arguing in angry whispers.

"…you cannot lead him on like that!" Draco's voice said, irritated.

"I am not leading him on!"

"Then what do you call what you are doing to him?"

"A relationship," Pansy hissed. "Just because last time ended as it did doesn't mean that I shouldn't have another shot at happiness."

"'A shot at happiness'"? Draco questioned irately. "Well, answer me this Pansy, do you love him?"

There was a long pause.

"Just as I thought," Draco said, walking out of the study to see Ginny standing there. His face betrayed no surprise or anger to find her eavesdropping, but rather it brightened at the sight of her.

"Hello, darling," he greeted her, offering her his arm. "Ready?"

* * *

Blaise and Luna's new home pleased Ginny. She thought the small cottage more than suitable for the pair. It had a big yard, great for Luna's different animals that often pranced around the house. It was homely, disorganized and sunny, and Ginny fell in love with it at the first sight. She hoped to visit again, if just to talk and be around the tranquility that filled the place, a wish that Luna and Blaise easily accommodated for by giving her an open invitation.

The lunch was uneventful, as all they did was talk about now and then. No one shared their fears or hopes, but rather it was filled with nostalgia of the days long gone as well as appreciation for what they had. No one really liked the life of secrecy they were forced to lead, all ex-Slytherins apart from Luna and Ginny, and Luna was the only one whose name was not tainted in the room. Yet if her choice of friends became known, it would cost her more than her job. Such were the fears that went unshared, for no one wanted to spoil their time together. It was pleasant to at least pretend to forget about all the bad things for a little bit.

After their return, the trio found Narcissa alone, sitting on the terrace. The sun was setting, coloring the sky in different shades of red, but it was still quite warm outside. The birds were chirping, filling the silence with their songs, and heralding the arrival of summer.

"Hello Mother," Draco said in greeting.

Narcissa looked over them and smiled lazily before replying:

"I was just admiring the sunset before you came. Did you have fun?"

"Yeah, Blaise and Luna are doing wonderful." Draco replied, stretching his arm and resting it lightly on Ginny's shoulders.

Pansy, almost as if to give them more space, moved away to lean on the grey stone wall that surrounded the veranda.

"Red sky adumbrates war," Pansy murmured the old saying to herself without much thought.

"No need for such words, Pansy," Narcissa remained her sternly, giving Ginny a wary look, thought the couple was too engrossed in each other to listen.

"I didn't mean to say that out loud," Pansy apologized quickly.

"So what did you do at the Zabini's?" Narcissa quickly filled in the gap in the conversation by discreetly calling Draco and Ginny over, conjuring two patio chairs for them.

The trio took its time recounting the afternoon, and then the conversation turned to the Quidditch match that Pansy and Ginny saw in the morning, which draw almost no interest from Narcissa but quite some from Draco. By then the sun finally did set, leaving them talking in shady twilight. The shadows elongated, giving everything a more mysterious twist, and speaking of mystery, the family was interrupted by the sounds of the gravel being gritted by the wheels of an approaching coach and the sound that the wards that guarded the house were making as they were going crazy, trying to implore the attention of the masters to the unexpected visit.

Draco immediately jumped up, quickly followed by Pansy who grabbed Ginny's hand, and used her wand to Disillusion Ginny pulling her inside at the same time. Draco and Narcissa quickly followed with their wands out. Once inside, they split, Pansy using a series of hidden doors and spells that Ginny knew nothing of to open a small room behind one of the shelves in the library.

"Do you have your wand?" Pansy finally whispered quickly, and Ginny nodded. Her wand was out too, she was not defenseless.

"Alright, stay here, we'll take care of it." Pansy said, ushering Ginny inside the secret room.

"Who is it? Couldn't it be Blaise or something…?"

"I don't know, Ginevra," Pansy answered in whisper, performing the charms all over again to hide the room. "There is an invisibility cloak inside. Put it on. Don't make a sound. I must go; Narcissa and Draco may need my help."

Ginny was left alone in the hidden room as Pansy made her way to the foyer. Seeing as the whole process did not take more than a minute, she made in time to see Narcissa and Draco standing on each side of the door, eyeing it circumspectly, with Crabbe, the main servant, lurking behind them with a rather big walking stick in his hand. It might have been his wand, but Pansy felt that it was neither the time nor the place to give it much thought, and she too went to join them.

Walking down the stairs, she was too late. Someone pounded at the door, as it with a cane or a walking stick, the sound of wood hitting wood battered their eardrums. Draco looked form Narcissa to Pansy to get the latter's approval, and to check with the former that Ginny was safely hidden away, and then he waved his wand in a sequence of intricate circles and the door opened. It revealed a cloaked man of stately figure who was leaning heavily on his cane, and clutching a copy of the Daily Prophet in his hand. He was wearing a hat under the hood of his cloak that securely concealed his face from the on-lookers, the cloak, obviously of expensive material was held under his chin by a silver broche, falling down almost to his ankles covering most of the dragon hide boots that were on his feet. He stood there for a second, as if searching for someone, and then when his eyes stopped at the pale face of Mrs. Malfoy, he spoke in a raspy voice:

"The time has come, Narcissa."

* * *

**A/N**: Thanks for reading. So I kind of love cliff hangers, sorry. Though if it makes you feel better, this cliff hanger made me post this chapter because I quite like this new plot twist though I have no idea where I am going with it. We shall see.

I am thinking of changing the title of the fic to "Chaos" or "Everything Falls Apart" and/or maybe something else. I definitely do not like "The Kitchen Knife" since it's not really about it anyway. Feel free to post suggestions if you have any, but just so you know if you get an update alert saying that some weird fic that you've never heard of have been updated, it's probably this one.

Now onto the reviews:

**Dristi**- No, I didn't forget the story. As I said though, I was dreadfully busy, but I am mostly back now. Sorry that this update took forever. I like Pansy's personality too, she is one of my favorite characters when she is portrayed as a strong woman and Draco's friend rather than a clingy _girl_friend (DIE Pansy/Draco DIE!!). Because of your review, I added the snip-bit about Fleur, liked it? Anyways, there is gonna be more Weasley interaction in the upcoming chapters. Thanks for the review, and excuse my overly long response hehe

**ShortySC22**- Thanks for the review! Here is more, though it took me forever.

**Dracoginnylover24**- I am open to suggestions so feel free to ask for more of certain characters or whatever (I will try to please my readers, but can't promise anything). Yeah, I, too, had fun writing it. Go D/G!! Thanks for the review.

**Miss devil's kiss**- Yup, more Weasley interaction coming up in next few chapters. It's kind of hard to interact with them right now because they think that she is dead lolz. Thanks for the review!

**LauraZabini**- Yeah, maybe. Can't really tell you what they think without spoiling the plot, can I? But we shall see in the next few chapters... Thanks for the review!

**PinkMusicalCherry**- Yup, I didn't abandon this fic. I love it too much hehe. Thanks for the review.

**Rashel Quinn**- Thanks for the review! I just added another little plot twist (didn't plan it before, it just kind happened). I am glad that you like my plot though I was just hinting on it so far. We are going to get into some really twisty-plotty stuff in the next chapter or two.


End file.
